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Unexpected Delights, Chapter 2

  • Posted on June 30, 2017 at 12:22 pm

By No One

Following Nettie into the house, Chloe studied the older girl’s lovely backside — the one she had been touching just a few minutes ago — when a thought came to her.

“I guess you didn’t need the sunscreen after all,” she said, amused. In the end, it didn’t look like they would be spending much time out in the sun.

“Oh, don’t worry, I got what I wanted out of it,” Nettie replied, mischief in her eyes as she spun to face Chloe. She took the young girl’s hand, and pulled her towards her bedroom, grinning lustfully all the while. Holding the door open, she motioned for Chloe to enter.

Too late to turn back now, Chloe thought as she slowly walked into the room, stepping over discarded clothing that lay here and there on the floor. The walls were covered in posters, mostly punk bands — or so Chloe assumed, she’d never heard of any of them — but a few were of beautiful women in revealing outfits, which she looked on appreciatively. There was also the large mirror that had betrayed her earlier. She gave it a mock glare, though it appeared that things had worked out in the end.

Suddenly, she felt Nettie’s nearly naked body pressing against her back. The skin contact sent a pleasurable shiver all over her body, and it only got worse when the teenager’s hands joined in the mischief, roaming first over her thighs, then making their way to her belly.

“Now we’re gonna have some fun,” Nettie whispered in Chloe’s ear, before gently nibbling on her earlobe.

Chloe gasped at the electric feeling this contact sent through her body, surprised that her ear could be so sensitive. It seemed to send an excited response all the way down between her legs. Her bikini bottom was wet, and she was certain that it wasn’t only due to the water from the pool.

Nettie’s hands moved to Chloe’s back, and before she realized what was happening, the clasp of her top was undone. “Oh!” she squealed in surprise as she whirled about to face the culprit, raising a hand to her chest to keep the piece of garment in place.

Nettie looked like the cat that ate the canary. “What? I thought you were gonna show me,” she said, flashing a wicked grin.

Chloe supposed she had kind of implied that she would take off her top if they went inside. She hesitated briefly, then slowly slipped one bikini strap off her shoulder, then the other, before finally letting the top fall to the floor. Watching intently for Nettie’s reaction, she was very pleased to see the other girl bite her bottom lip, the lust burning brighter in her eyes.

“Mmm, very nice,” the teenager purred. She locked eyes with Chloe, winked at her, then casually hooked both thumbs into her own bikini bottom and pulled it down.

Chloe gaped in surprise, her eyes inexorably drawn to the older girl’s sex. There was a tuft of brown hair at the top, but the lips were bare. It was a very arousing sight, and Chloe swallowed, her mouth suddenly dry.

Nettie smirked at her and raised an eyebrow, clearly wondering if Chloe would dare to do the same. Got the nerve, little girl? her eyes seemed to say.

In fact, Chloe did feel very timid and nervous, but she didn’t want Nettie to think she was a scaredy-cat. Truth was, she would probably do nearly anything the older girl asked at this point. She took a deep breath, then quickly tugged down her own bikini bottom, exposing her young, nearly hairless sex.

The girls took a moment to ogle each other. Despite her sheepishness, Chloe found she was enjoying the feel of the other girl’s lustful eyes as they swept over her body.

Very sexy,” Nettie said. She closed the distance between them, and their lips came together in an intense kiss.

The teen girl was pushing her body hard against Chloe’s, making her take a step back, then another, until she bumped into something and started to tip backwards. Chloe had a brief instant of panic, then the bed comfortably stopped her short fall.

Nettie gave her an innocent smile, then climbed on the bed as well, straddling Chloe’s hips.

Chloe cried out in surprise as their sexes touched; she hadn’t been prepared for the powerful sensation that coursed through her. Nettie grinned and wriggled her hips a little, which only magnified the feeling.

The teenager reached out and gently removed Chloe’s glasses, then stretched to deposit them on the bedside table. Every movement sent waves of pleasure through Chloe, who let out little gasps and moans.

The room became a little blurry without her glasses, but thankfully Nettie was close enough to see in exquisite detail. The older girl leaned down to kiss Chloe, immediately slipping in her tongue as well. Their tongues danced and dueled for a long moment, intense and passionate. At times, one or the other would moan into their kiss, especially when Nettie pushed down on her hips and made their nether lips embrace as well.

Chloe felt like she was in heaven. Naked in bed with Nettie, kissing and much more; it was a scene she had pictured so many times, but the reality felt even better than her imagination. Their position was something of a surprise, though — it had never occurred to her that two girls could rub their privates together like that. It was wonderfully erotic and pleasurable, the feeling of Nettie’s hot, slick sex pressing against her own, their wetness mingling together.

Their kiss finally broke, leaving both girls out of breath. “You like this?” Nettie whispered huskily, pressing down hard with her hips at the same time, possibly to make sure Chloe was very clear on what she was asking.

“Ah! Yes!” Chloe nearly shouted, a sudden moan making her voice rise higher than she’d intended.

Nettie smirked, looking quite pleased with herself. Straightening up, she started to rock her hips back and forth with more purpose, drawing a moan from Chloe with each thrust. Those moans only grew louder when Nettie reached out with both hands to cup the young girl’s nascent breasts and toy with her nipples.

Nettie wasn’t exactly silent herself; Chloe could hear that she was growing more and more breathless in her exertions. It thrilled her, the realization that the teen was experiencing as much pleasure as she was. There wasn’t much freedom of movement in this position, but she tried to push her hips back against Nettie’s as much as she could, grinding their sexes together in a way that felt positively delicious.

“Mmm, fuck!” Nettie moaned urgently.

Chloe grinned, excited by the dirty word. She met Nettie’s eyes; they were glazed over in ecstasy. The older girl’s breathing was growing more erratic, her movements more urgent, and Chloe knew she was about to come.

Indeed, a few seconds later, Nettie’s eyes squeezed shut and a low groan forced its way past her lips, her face twisted in a grimace of overwhelming pleasure.

The teenager’s orgasm was the sexiest thing Chloe had ever seen, and she watched on with excitement as Nettie rode the waves of ecstasy until her movements slowed and she let out a deep, contented sigh.

Chloe now felt herself quite close to her own release, but Nettie was out of breath, her movements slowing to a near-standstill. As arousing as the spectacle of her partner’s orgasm had been, Chloe now couldn’t help but feel a bit frustrated. She tried to grind against the other girl to make up for it.

Nettie opened her eyes and gave her an apologetic smile. She reached down between them, into the hot, wet place where their bodies met, and flicked her thumb over Chloe’s little nub, making her cry out in renewed delight. Now smirking, Nettie continued with wonderful circular motions from her thumb while she brought in the fingers of her other hand to explore the folds of Chloe’s sex.

“Yes, yes!” Chloe exclaimed, her arousal quickly peaking again under the care of Nettie’s expert fingers. It didn’t take long at all for her to feel that tension build up to its breaking point. Her back arched up from the bed, and she screamed wordlessly as a wave of bliss hit, harder than any of the times she’d ever done it to herself.

Chloe thrashed and twitched as she rode that perfect orgasm, Nettie’s finger gradually slowing, bringing her down gently from that ecstatic high.

“Wow,” she said simply, once she had recovered her breath a little.

“Good one, huh?” Nettie said, sounding self-satisfied, as she climbed off Chloe and lay down next to her.

Chloe could only nod. She felt the other girl’s hand on her cheek and turned to face Nettie, who seized that opportunity to kiss her again. It was gentle at first, but soon grew deep and passionate as the teenager slipped her tongue in.

Chloe felt Nettie’s hand groping her butt as they kissed, pressing their bodies together. Despite having just had an amazing orgasm, this ardent make-out session was awakening her desire all over again. She’d assumed they were done with the sex stuff, but now wondered if the older girl had other plans.

They smiled at each other when their lips finally parted. “I didn’t think you’d want to… fool around, with a girl my age,” Chloe said timidly after a moment. She still had a hard time believing this had actually happened.

Nettie shrugged nonchalantly. “If you’re old enough to get turned on and want it, I think you’re old enough to do it, yeah?” she said, then paused and frowned. “Wait, you knew I liked girls? Before this?”

“Oh, um…” Chloe hesitated, then nodded sheepishly.

The teenager raised an eyebrow at her, clearly awaiting an explanation.

Chloe sighed. This is gonna be so embarrassing! “Well, remember, like, last year, when me and Alex had a sleepover here?” she began.

Nettie shrugged. “I guess? You did that a few times.”

“Ya, well, that time, um, you had a friend over… Trish, I think?”

“Ah.” Nettie nodded, a small smile appearing on her lips. Perhaps she saw where this was going.

“So… during the night, I got up to get a glass of water from the bathroom upstairs. Then I heard, uh, a noise, coming from down the stairs, so um, I kinda peeked. You and Trish were on the couch… making out… and, um, you were naked,” Chloe shyly continued.

Nettie chuckled. “I bet we were. And what did you think of that?”

“That… it was hot,” Chloe admitted with a giggle.

The teenager grinned, then kissed her, and they did their own bit of making out for a while. Telling the story was turning Chloe on, as she remembered the thrilling and — at the time — shocking things she had seen that night. It seemed to be having the same effect on Nettie, too.

“What then? Did you go back to Alex’s room?” Nettie asked teasingly.

“I… might have watched for a bit,” Chloe confessed, blushing a little.

“You naughty girl,” Nettie said in mock indignation. “What happened next, then?”

“You, um… you kissed her boobs.”

“Mm, that does sound like me,” the older girl conceded. Getting up on her hands and knees, she leaned down over Chloe and gave one of her budding breasts a long, spiralling lick, ending with a flick of the tongue on her nipple. “Like this, maybe?” she asked.

A moan was the only reply Chloe was able to give. Clearly satisfied with that answer, Nettie continued on, licking and kissing all over her chest, moving from one breast to the other. Her nipples were left very stiff, and she felt a fresh flush of heat and wetness between her legs.

“Was that all we did?” Nettie then asked, with a smirk that said she was well aware of the answer.

Chloe shook her head, already a little short of breath.

“What, then?”

“You kissed her… her belly,” Chloe continued, feeling a rising excitement at the direction this was going.

Nettie nodded, then nuzzled her way down to Chloe’s tummy. She gave her belly button a few teasing licks, then asked, “and then?”

Chloe swallowed. “You kissed… between her legs.”

“Her pussy?” Nettie asked, smiling.

Chloe nodded. “Her pussy,” she repeated, feeling a naughty thrill at the dirty word. She watched Nettie crawl further down until she felt the teen’s breath on her most intimate parts. It made her shiver with nervous anticipation.

The next thing she felt was Nettie’s tongue, giving her a long, slow lick from the bottom of her sex to the top. The wonderful feeling drew a long moan out of her. She had given herself so many orgasms while picturing this exact situation, and now it was actually happening. Nettie was licking her. Licking her pussy.

“Yummy,” the teenager said, winking up at her, before she went back for a second lick, then a third, then… well, Chloe lost count as a fog of pleasure filled up her head.

Raised up on her elbows, all she could do was stare at the beautiful face between her spread legs, kissing and licking every inch, every fold of her pussy. Her deepest fantasy realized, and it felt even more amazing than she’d imagined. Her fingers were no match for Nettie’s magic tongue.

Pleasure was building up hard and fast within her. She was growing breathless, every exhalation a whimper. Her hips twitched and ground against her partner’s face, seemingly of their own volition.

Nettie didn’t seem to mind at all. She looked up, and paused to offer her a grin, obviously well aware of the effect her tongue was having. She used two fingers to spread Chloe’s pussy lips before bringing her mouth back into play, licking deep within her folds.

Poking tentatively with a finger at the entrance of Chloe’s sex, Nettie raised an eyebrow when she found no resistance. Moving slowly, she slipped her finger into Chloe, fully penetrating her.

Chloe let out a loud cry. It felt as if she was going to explode with pleasure. She thought she heard Nettie chuckle, then felt the older girl’s tongue concentrate on her nub. Almost before she knew it was happening, Nettie’s finger found the secret spot inside her that always made her go wild.

“Ah! Ah, Nettie!” she cried out as she felt her orgasm fast approaching. Chloe tried to resist it, to make these amazing feelings last as long as possible, but Nettie’s wicked talents were making that impossible. The inescapable ecstasy crashed into her, making her body thrash around uncontrollably, wiping away her conscious thoughts for the moment.

Once she could think again, she opened her eyes and found Nettie on her knees, watching her. “That was… even better than the last one,” she said haltingly.

“Yeah, I’m that good,” Nettie agreed.

Chloe giggled at her lack of modesty. She wanted to kiss the girl, but found her limbs were still very weak when she tried to get up. Instead, she gestured for Nettie to get closer.

Now face to face, she noticed the teenager had glistening traces of wetness on her cheeks, around her mouth. She reddened a little, thinking about where they came from. “Oh, um, you’re a bit… messy, there,” she pointed out.

“And who’s fault is that?” Nettie asked, though she didn’t seem to mind in the least.

“Sorry,” Chloe said coyly, then a naughty thought crossed her mind. “I guess I should clean you up, then,” she said, before she leaned closer and gave the older girl’s cheek a tentative lick. Nettie’s sharp intake of breath told her this was as much of a turn-on as she’d hoped.

She licked all around Nettie’s mouth, probably not doing a great job of actually cleaning, but that wasn’t really the point. She had tasted her own wetness before, just to see what it was like, but now realized that it was a lot more fun to lick it off a pretty girl’s face.

Once the cursory cleaning was done, she slipped her tongue into the other girl’s mouth for a steamy kiss that was passionately returned. Gazing into Nettie’s eyes afterwards, she could see lust building up, and suspected that the girl was in the mood for more.

Now that some of her strength had returned, Chloe gently pushed Nettie onto her back, then sat up next to her. The older girl was watching her expectantly, perhaps wondering if she had the nerve to take a more active role in the lovemaking. In fact, that was exactly what Chloe wanted — to explore that gorgeous teenage body.

She laid a hand on Nettie’s flat stomach, then slowly caressed her way up across her ribs until she cupped one of her breasts. They were really lovely, small but firm, keeping their shape even with the girl lying on her back.

Chloe took her time, caressing first one breast, then the other, then both at once, encouraged by little moans and sighs from Nettie. The nipples quickly grew very stiff, and she took delight in teasing them with her fingers.

“So…” Nettie began between two happy sighs, “you didn’t finish your story. You watched us have sex? And then?”

Chloe reddened again; she had hoped to avoid the most embarrassing part. “I, um… I had to go back into the bathroom,” she mumbled.

Nettie laughed. “Oh really? And what did you do in the bathroom, Chloe?” she asked in a knowing tone.

Chloe glanced down the teenager’s body, towards her inviting sex, and decided that actions might speak louder than words. One of her hands slipped away from Nettie’s breasts, sliding down her body until she reached the older girl’s pussy. She pressed her fingers deep into the juicy folds. The girl was positively dripping with excitement.

Nettie let out a loud moan. “Is that what you did?” she breathed. “You fucked your little pussy? While we were fucking downstairs?”

Chloe’s eyes widened a little at the dirty talk, but she smiled as well. Nettie seemed to be really into it. “Yes, I did,” she whispered into the teen’s ear.

“Mmm. While my sis was sleeping just next door?”

“Yes,” she said again. She’d been a bit ashamed of herself at the time, but had been unable to resist her need after watching Nettie and Trish fool around.

“Mm, you dirty girl,” Nettie moaned. “Wish I could have seen that.” Her eyes were squeezed shut, maybe imagining the scene.

While her fingers traced up and down the cleft of Nettie’s sex, Chloe lowered her mouth to the girl’s chest, flicking her tongue over one hard nipple. The teenager gasped in response, making Chloe smile. Her nipples, it seemed, were quite sensitive. Chloe took one in her mouth, sucked at it for a moment, then moved to the other.

She tentatively eased a finger into Nettie’s slick sex, slowly working it in and out. Receiving encouraging moans, she accelerated her movements a little. It felt very dirty and thrilling to penetrate the older girl like this.

“Mmm, yeah. You can put in more than one,” Nettie suggested breathily.

Chloe paused. She’d never used more than one finger on herself, but it made sense that grown-ups might want more than that. After all, lots of girls like a boy’s thing in there, and that’s bigger than a finger, right? She hesitated, then gingerly added a second finger to join the first inside Nettie’s vagina.

The teen girl seemed to like that a lot. Suddenly her hips were thrusting against Chloe’s hand, driving those fingers even deeper.

“Yeah! Harder!” Nettie demanded.

Chloe had been moving somewhat cautiously, afraid she might maybe hurt Nettie if she went in too hard —but evidently, that wasn’t a concern. On the contrary, the more vigorous she was, the more the teenager seemed to like it, letting out deep groans of pleasure on each thrust. Nettie was arching her body up from the bed, bucking and pushing herself against Chloe urgently. It was an intensely erotic display.

Nettie seemed to be very close to a big orgasm, and Chloe thought she knew just the way to drive her over the edge. She licked the fingertips of her free hand, then reached out and pressed them to the other girl’s engorged nub.

The response was immediate. Nettie’s body began to shudder violently. “Ah, yes! Fuck me, baby!” she shouted.

Chloe’s brow furrowed in concentration as she made circular motions over her partner’s button, her fingers still pistoning in and out of the older girl’s hungry sex, striving to give her as much pleasure as possible.

It only took a few seconds before Nettie tensed up all over, then froze, letting out her ecstasy in a hoarse scream. Her body bridged above the bed for a long moment, until she finally crumpled like a broken puppet.

Chloe gently extracted her fingers from Nettie’s pulsing sex, and watched over the girl’s supine form. Nettie was a twitching, disheveled, sweaty mess. She was beautiful. Smiling, Chloe lay down next to her.

“Oh, God… damn…” Nettie mumbled.

“Good one?” Chloe asked knowingly.

“Mmm-hmm. You did really well, kid. Fast learner for sure,” Nettie praised her, eyes still closed. An instant later, she grimaced. “Ugh, I probably shouldn’t call someone I just had sex with a ‘kid,’” she added.

Chloe giggled, then fell silent, watching the girl catch her breath.

Finally, Nettie opened her eyes and glanced at Chloe. The lust had dissipated from her gaze, replaced by a hint of worry.

“Hey, um, you… you’re okay with all this, right?” she asked hesitantly. “I guess I can get kinda… overeager, when I’m horny.”

“I’m just fine,” Chloe reassured her with a smile. “It was amazing!”

Nettie smiled back, relieved. “Oh, great then. Glad to hear that.”

“Kinda been thinking about that for a while,” Chloe continued sheepishly.

“Oh, yeah? Since you saw me with Trish?”

Chloe nodded shyly.

The teenager grinned. “What, is that what got you into girls?”

Chloe giggled and shook her head. “I kinda knew I liked girls before but… that sure gave me some, um, new ideas.”

Nettie laughed. “I bet. Ideas to explore in our bathroom, you mean,” she said with a wink.

“Yeah… and a lot of other times since,” Chloe quickly admitted, before she thought better of it.

“Wow, really. You’re a lot wilder than you look,” Nettie said, chuckling. “Well, happy to be of service in your masturbation fantasies,” she added, bowing her head and making Chloe snort in laughter. “Kinda wish I’d noticed sooner, I guess.”

“It’s okay.” Chloe was just overjoyed to have been able to share this experience with Nettie. A thought crossed her mind then, and she frowned a little. “Um, is Trish… your girlfriend?” she asked.

Nettie sighed, pursing her lips. “No. Trish decided she likes guys better now,” she explained, a bitter edge to her voice.

“Oh,” Chloe said. She couldn’t believe anything could be better than sex with Nettie, though it was a relief that she wasn’t intruding on some other relationship.

“What about you? Do you like boys?” Nettie asked.

Chloe shook her head. “Not really,” she said. She’d never understood what the big deal with boys was supposed to be.

“Good girl,” the teenager approved, and gave her a quick kiss.

Chloe grinned back. “So… are we gonna be doing this again?” she asked, pushing a strand of hair behind her ear.

“Up to you, but I hope so.” Nettie wiggled her eyebrows suggestively.

“Then I think maybe we will,” Chloe replied with a knowing nod.

“Hey, um, you can’t tell anyone about this, though, okay?” Nettie said, suddenly serious. “Even Alex. Well, especially Alex. I could, uh, get in some deep shit.”

“I promise,” Chloe said solemnly. The last thing she wanted was to get Nettie in trouble for giving her so much pleasure.

“Good. I think you and me will get along very well, then.” That sexy smirk was back on Nettie’s lips, full of erotic possibilities. Chloe couldn’t wait to explore them all.

Continue on to Chapter 3

My Family, Friends, and Sex – Chapter 9

  • Posted on June 29, 2017 at 5:51 pm

By Purple Les

It was just like any night Aunt Billie came to visit me and Mom. Except it wouldn’t be. I would have sex with my Mom and my Aunt, my Mom’s sister in-law. I had let my Aunt in. After Aunt Billie hugged and kissed me, I took her coat and hung it up in the closet.

I watched TV while Mom and Aunt Billie chatted in the kitchen. Mom made a tray of cheese and crackers and whatever while Aunt Billie got out wine glasses and opened up a bottle of wine. Then sometime while they chatted and drank and munched I came into the kitchen to hangout because the TV had got boring, just like I always do.

This time though, before I turned off the TV and came in the kitchen, I left the TV on and stood near the kitchen to eavesdrop on them. I had noticed that when they lowered their voices, their conversation was more interesting.

“So come on, Carol, how long have you been licking that five year old pussy?”

“About four months ago, give or take.”

“Tell me everything, please.”

“Okay. You see, Grace was over while the girls were in school. We were having our weekly sex matinee like we do most Wednesdays.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know all that Carol. I’ve been with you too a few times. Either Lucy is home, or taking a nap here while the sex goes on. Now tell me about Lucy and you and Grace.”

“Well, like I was trying to tell you Billie, Grace was over and we were horny, as always.”

“Ha, you know after I have sex with Grace, I’m horny again an hour later.”

“Don’t be an asshole, Billie. Do you want to hear this or not?”

“Sorry, you know I do, go on.”

“So I suggested she put Lucy down for a nap. Well Grace told me that Lucy had told her she had started doing things with Mary. Sex things. Not only did Grace get all the details from Lucy, Grace started playing with Lucy. Sex play. So in a nutshell Billie, Mary and Lucy were figuring out how to have sex fun with each other. Lucy told Grace, and Grace swore Lucy to secrecy. Then besides Grace getting to hear about what the sisters were doing from Lucy, Grace also had sex with Lucy. After Grace told me all this, she suggested we let Lucy join us.”

“Shut the front door, Carol!”

“That was my reaction. I mean it’s one thing for you, me and, Grace to talk about girls while we fuck around, and watch those DVDs you bring, but to have Grace actually offer to let her baby daughter have sex with us, I couldn’t believe it.”

“Did you tell her about Sammie, and Penny, and us?”

“No. I just figured not to get things too involved. I mean, Grace wasn’t doing anything with Mary, I wasn’t doing anything with Katy. I thought it might be best not to tell her about Sue, Penny, Sammie, and you and me right off, you know.”

“Yeah sure, I get it. Now back to your story.”

“Well Grace says to Lucy, ‘You want to watch Mommy and Aunt Carol have some fun?’ I tell you Billie, unlike you, for kids I’ve only ever been with Penny and Sammie, but Lucy is the most eager, horny little girl ever. Why before we even had our clothes off…”

It got quiet. I took a chance and peeked in to the kitchen, and Aunt Billie had started to kiss Mom. They were breaking the kiss, and I moved back again so I wouldn’t be seen.

“Please, Carol, I’m so horny, get her to bed soon, please.”

“Okay, my horny little sister-in-law. Don’t worry, all in good time.”

I turned the TV off so they would know I was going to come in the kitchen.

“Hi, angel,” Mom said, “Going to hang with us old folks?”

I told them there was nothing on TV and I was bored. Then I started to eat some of their snacks.

“Hey! I almost forgot, I have some scratch off lottery tickets.” said Aunt Billie. “Katy come sit on my lap while I scratch mine, you always bring me luck.”

It was funny how Mom and Aunt Billie played the scratch tickets. They made it sound so exciting. Like hey I have two $5,000 and two $1.00 and I still have another scratch, and usually it would be a loser but sometimes they won a dollar and got all excited.

My robe was open and I sat on Aunt Billie’s lap like always. My legs on either side of her legs and her hand on her lap near my pussy while she scratched her tickets. I loved the way it felt, her hand on her lap so close to my pussy. Sometimes like tonight her hand holding the ticket was right against my pussy. Just my pajama bottoms separating her hand and my pussy. Tonight not even that much. My fly on the pajamas was open. I could feel her knuckles on my bare skin down there. She pretended she didn’t notice, but I could tell she did. She took a very long time scratching. The way it shook my legs a little while she used a coin to scratch at the ticket sent another tingle down my back, through my butt and into my pussy.

Aunt Billie’s first ticket was a loser. The second one was a winner, she won $5.00 and was all excited. She kissed the top of my head and said,”Yes! My good luck girl.” My insides felt sort of all melted just from that little kiss. I was afraid I might just have a come without even doing anything.

Mom said, “Hey Katy! How’d you like a fire in the wood stove tonight?” We have a wood stove in the living room but mostly just use it in the fall or spring when it’s too warm for the furnace but still damp in the house. I love to see the flames thru the slats in the stove door, and it gets downright hot in the living room.

“I’d love that!”

“Okay, angel, go get it ready and we’ll be right in.” Then as I left I heard Mom say to Aunt Billie, “The fire always makes her sleepy.” I heard Aunt Billie give a dirty sort of laugh.

I headed down to the basement for the wood. In the summer I love the basement, there is a part that has wood paneling and a tile floor and an old couch. It’s the best room ever on a hot summer day. In the winter though, like tonight, I hated to go down there. The wood was on the other side of the basement, by the furnace and hot water tank past the clothes washer. It gives me the willies to be down over there. I put a block of the fire starter in my robe pocket. I didn’t turn a light on over there cause after I’d picked up wood I wouldn’t be able to turn it out. There was just the stairway light on. As I picked up small and big pieces of wood, I swore I saw shadows moving. It may have been a ghost or a vampire. Yeah. I know. Not real things, maybe, but I got back up stairs as fast as I could and dumped the wood by the stove.

I put in some newspaper, then some small wood and the fire starter. I put some big pieces of wood on top and waited for Aunt Billie and Mom to come in.

“It’s ready to go!” I yelled out and Mom said she would be right there to light it. I love when Mom lights the wood stove up. We knelt together in front of it while the flames got burning hot and bright. Mom kissed my head and closed the door. The door has slats you can adjust, and you could see the fire inside. Mom put on the Christmas lights and turned the lamp off. The glow from the fire and the Christmas lights made the room soft and beautiful.

Aunt Billie came in carrying a glass of wine in each hand for her and Mom. Mom sat by Aunt Billie on the couch, and I sat in the easy chair. They clinked their wine glasses and said ‘cheers’ and had a sip. I let out a big yawn, and not on purpose either.

I just looked at the fire and listened to the grownups chat. They were pretty boring, and I yawned again.

“Golly! It’s hot in here now.” I stood up and took my robe off, then curled back up in the chair.

“‘Golly’!? I had no idea anyone said that for real,” said Aunt Billie more to my Mom than me.

“Oh yeah, Billie. I thinks it’s all the old western shows she watches on TV.”

“You like that old stuff, Katy?” Aunt Billie said to me.

“Yeah I do. I love the horses.” I said.

Then Mom said, “Angel, go in the kitchen please and get the wine bottle for us.”

“Okay Mom,” I said, and as I went toward the kitchen, my pajama bottoms started to come down with each step I took, and by the third step I had to pull them up again before they fell down all the way. I noticed that Mom and Aunt Billie noticed that too.

I carried the bottle with both hands when I came back. Just as I got to the couch my bottoms fell down to my ankles. They couldn’t see nothing ’cause the pajama top came down to the middle of my thighs. We all laughed and I turned around to pull them up and I made sure they got a peak at my butt a little bit.

I sat back on the easy chair and Mom said, “Wow, it is hot in here!”

Aunt Billie said, “Well you have that heavy sweater on, take it off.”

Me and Mom looked at each other and Mom said,”Um, yeah okay.” Well you should have seen Aunt Billie’s face when Mom took it off. You know Mom didn’t have nothing on under it, and there were Mom’s boobs for both of us to see.

Aunt Billie was like all freaked out, sort of. Mom just laughed and I pretended to be surprised. I don’t think Billie knew what to make of it and said, “Okay… you going topless then?”

Mom laughed again and said, “Sure why not? It’s just us girls. You don’t mind do you, Katy?” I pretended I was real surprised that Mom was sitting there half naked, and I said I didn’t mind at all, and then I added they could both go around bare naked for all I cared.

“Well I like that idea just fine,” Mom said, and then she stood up and pulled her jeans down. She sat back down on the couch to pull them all the way off and that left her bare naked. Then she went back to her wine like it was the most normal thing in the world to sit there nude in front of Aunt Billie and me.

I couldn’t help but laugh because of the look on Aunt Billie’s face. “Seriously Carol?” Aunt Billie said.

“Oh don’t be so uptight Billie. We’re all family here. Just us girls. You’ve seen me naked plenty. You don’t mind seeing me naked, do you, Katy?”

“No, I don’t mind at all. Um, you look nice naked.”

“There, you see Billie. Katy doesn’t mind seeing me naked.”

Then they sat there sipping their wine, with Aunt Billie looking back and forth at me and Mom.

“Can I ask you guys something?” I said.

“Sure, angel, what is it?” Mom said.

“Do you guys French kiss each other?”

Now Aunt Billie looked really surprised, and she was really quiet. Mom said, “What do you know about French kissing?”

“Well, Sammie taught me how. It’s real cool, and I did it with Mary too.”

Aunt Billie just sat there, her eyes wide. Mom said, “Well, when did all this happen?”

“The day you guys went out with Aunt Sue, Sammie showed me how. I did it with Mary on New Years Eve, and the day after. You’re not mad, are you?”

“No of course not, angel. What makes you think Aunt Billie and I French kiss.”

“Well you guys sleep together, and I thought maybe you… um, I don’t know, maybe you kissed, that’s all. I mean kissing is fun. I just wondered if you two did it.”

“Come over here, angel, and show me how you French kiss your friend Mary.”

Aunt Billie looked, well, she looked horny to me. I got up and started to walk towards Mom. My pajama bottoms fell down on the way and I just stepped out of them. No one was laughing though. I stepped between Mom’s spread legs. She put her hands on my shoulders and we kissed. Our tongues were going back and forth in each other’s mouth.

I could hear Aunt Billie breathing hard. Mom broke the kiss and said, “Well you do that very well. Yes. In answer to your question before, yes, me and Aunt Billie love to French kiss. Would you like to see?”

“I’d like that a real lot, Mom.”

I stepped back a little, and Mom took Aunt Billie’s glass and set it down on the coffee table. Then she leaned over and started kissing Aunt Billie. Aunt Billie was feeling Mom’s boobies all up. They kissed a long time. Aunt Billie was looking at Mom like I look at Mom and Sammie and Mary. Looking like she loved her more than anything. Mom was kissing all around Aunt Billie’s face, and then Mom said, “Come here, Katy. I think Aunt Billie would like to see you naked, too. Would that be okay, angel? Can I get you naked for us to look at?”

“Yeah. Okay, um, cool,” was all I could say. I stepped back over to Mom. She kissed me again.

“First though angel, give your Aunt Billie a kiss, like you kissed me.” I moved over to my aunt. She leaned forward and we kissed. First kind of shy, our lips brushing, and sort of sizing up each other’s mouths. Then we were kissing with our tongues. We sort of stopped at the same time. It was a real nice kiss. I looked down and I could see that her jeans had a kind of wet spot in the crotch. Mom pulled me back in front of her and started to unbutton my pajama top.

She had the top buttons undone and opened it some so they could both see my little hard nipples. “Feel them.” Mom said looking at Aunt Billie. They both put a finger on a tit and felt them so softly I had a shiver go up my back. Aunt Billie was real close to Mom. She was feeling one of Mom’s tits and one of mine.

Mom undid one more button, and she left the bottom button fastened. Then Mom pushed my top off my shoulders and pulled the sleeves a little and my top fell down my back and hips and down my legs. I was bare naked in front of my Aunt Billie and my Mom. Aunt Billie was sitting back now and looking at me up and down.

I walked back over to the easy chair. I sat down with one foot on the floor and my other leg draped over the arm of the chair. “Mom, I’m really horny. Would it be okay to just play with myself right here?”

“Sure, angel. Go right ahead.”

“Mom? Shouldn’t Aunt Billie be naked too?” I asked as I started to move my finger up and down my little bare pussy. Aunt Billie was just staring at me, with her mouth open.

“Yes, angel, she should be.”

I played with myself while I watched Mom kiss and start to undress my Aunt. I put my middle finger in my pussy up to the first knuckle. I was pretty gooey already. Mom and Aunt Billie were standing up now. Aunt Billie was just in her panties now. Mom was sort of next to her but behind her. She was kissing my Aunt, and had her hand down the front of my Aunt’s panties, rubbing around under them. Even though I had just done so much sex stuff with Mom that afternoon, I was all super horny again.

They were both beautiful, but I guess you would say apples and oranges. Their bodies were nice but different. Mom’s body looked more like, well like Sophia Loren when she was young. I guess you wouldn’t know who that is unless you see all those old movies on TV like I do. Aunt Billie’s body reminded me more of Emma Watson if she were a little older. Then Mom pulled down Aunt Billie’s panties.

Aunt Billie’s pussy was as bare as mine. Not a hair on it that I could see. It was as bare as Mary’s or Lucy’s little pussies. But it sure didn’t look like our kid pussies. It looked sort of between Mom’s and Sammie’s pussies. Aunt Billie’s pussy had bigger pussy lips than Sammie’s pussy, but not as big as Moms. I guess maybe ’cause Aunt Billie never had a baby come out of her pussy like I had come out of my Mom’s.

They were sitting on the couch again. They had their legs spread and a leg over each other, and they were rubbing each other’s pussy. They were both watching me masturbate. I couldn’t stop looking at Aunt Billie’s pussy.

I got on the floor and went over to the couch on my hands and knees like a cat or dog would walk. I sat in front of Aunt Billie with my behind resting on the heels of my feet. I put my hands on Aunt Billie’s knees, and moved her one leg further over. I was watching Mom’s fingers move all over my Aunt’s pussy, and then I said, “Aunt Billie, please let me lick your pussy. Please, may I?”

I don’t think I really waited to hear an answer. The next thing I knew I was just putting my face closer to her pussy. Then I was licking it like crazy. I put a couple fingers inside her too while I licked her pussy lips, and then I started doing the ABC’s on her clit, except I just spelled A-U-N-T-B-I-L-L-I-E over and over with my tongue on her clit. I ended up just sort of sucking her clit. I couldn’t hear what she was saying ’cause her thighs were pressed against my ears. She pushed my head away after awhile and I lay on the floor looking up at her and Mom. Mostly, though, I couldn’t tear my eyes from Aunt Billie’s pussy.

I don’t remember a lot. I remember Mom had got my sleeping bag from my room and opened it all up and spread it on the floor. We were all on it. I remember I had my hands and mouth all over both grownups. I remember they were both all over me. I had more than one come, a lot more. I remembered all of us just laying there saying dirty things and laughing and touching. Mom told Aunt Billie all about what had happened with me and her that afternoon. It seemed so long ago. It was just hours ago, though.

I guess what I remember best was them kissing me back and forth while the other licked my pussy. It ended up with Aunt Billie making me come while Mom kissed me. They lay together kissing and pulling each other’s tits, while I went back and forth on their pussies. They were saying really dirty stuff like, ‘Make your Aunt come on your face.’ and, ‘Mommy’s gonna come so hard, my little fuck angel.’ After I’d licked them both back and forth a long time, I got up on my knees. In each of their pussies I put three fingers. I rubbed their clits with my thumb. I finger fucked them with my middle three, and my pinkie finger poked each of their assholes. They told me to say something real dirty. Okay, if you really want to know they had me say real loud, ‘Come on me, you fucking girl whore bitches!’ There was more that I couldn’t remember how to say, but it didn’t matter ’cause they came real hard together right then.

We all went at various times to go freshen up in the bathroom.

Later, we sat naked in the kitchen, eating and drinking. We were back out in the living room after. All of us were saying we’d had enough sex. Then Mom opened the wood stove and stirred the embers and put in another log. We just lay on the sleeping bag on the floor. It was hot again. I was glad we were all still naked. Aunt Billie turned on our DVD player and put in a disc.

The first thing on it was about a dozen girls from like 7 to 17 years old. I guessed it was a beauty contest sort of thing. First they came out one by one in dresses. Then they came out in swimsuits. I figured they would announce the winner after that. But then they came out one by one bare naked. I couldn’t believe it. I had looked for naked girls on the internet sometimes but there was nothing. Now we were watching girls stand around naked with each other. Then they showed the people who were watching, and everyone was naked. I loved seeing all the girls naked, my favorite one didn’t win the contest, though.

The next thing on the disc was something old. There wasn’t any sound. It reminded me of the ‘Brady Bunch’. I mean the clothes and hair did. It was a girl about my age. She was on a bed reading, and this young woman comes in, maybe her Mom or big sister. They hug and kiss and then the woman looks at the girl’s magazine. I guess it’s dirty. They lay on the bed together looking at it and they get horny, and then they get naked and have sex. Then a much older woman comes in the room. She seems mad and she makes them go in the living room bare naked. Then she gets naked too and they all have sex.

The next thing I knew, even though we all had sort of tired pussies, we were all making love again. After that, Mom covered me up in the sleeping bag and gave me a pillow off the couch, and I fell asleep watching the fire.

In the morning I woke up without my eyes opening. I could tell it was light out. I could smell coffee. I stretched and turned onto my back. I let out a really loud fart. I heard laughing. I opened my eyes and saw Mom and Aunt Billie on the couch. They were laughing at my fart. “Such a little lady, just like her mother,” laughed Aunt Billie.

“Hi, angel.” said Mom. I lay there looking at them. They were both drinking coffee. They were both in their robes, and their hair was wet. They both smelled nice. They were fresh from the shower. From where I was laying I tried to pull their robes open to see their pussies. They laughed.

“Katy, go get cleaned up. Take a shower, and then I’ll make breakfast for all of us,” instructed Mom. I got up out of the sleeping bag. I stood bare naked in front of my mom and aunt and stretched some more. I liked them seeing me naked. Then I noticed how funky I was. I had women cum all over me. I had to go pee bad, too. I headed for the bathroom and someone smacked my butt when I went by the couch.

I made sure the bathroom door was locked. I didn’t feel like my mom doing some pee game again. As I sat and peed, I started to poop too. While I sat there, I noticed the pinch mark on my arm I’d given myself was fading. I wiped my butt and flushed the toilet. In the shower I washed myself real good and washed my hair too. While I dried off, I thought about all that had happened to me in just a few days.

Sex with my sixteen-year-old cousin Sammie. Seeing Sammie have sex with my Mom. Finding out that the girls and women in my family like to have sex with each other. Then me having sex with my best friend Mary, and then with her little sister too.

And just yesterday I had sex with my Mom. Then with my mom and aunt. I overheard how Mom had sex with Mrs. Tran, Mary’s Mom. Now I knew all about my Mom and Mrs. Tran and her five year old daughter having sex together. I liked all that. I wanted to be in on it. I wanted Mary to be in on it, too.

I walked back out to the living room bare naked. I bent over at the waist to pick my robe up. I made sure the grownups got a good long look at my bare ass and my pussy.

Mom went to start breakfast, and I snuggled against Aunt Billie on the couch.

We had breakfast at the kitchen table. After I helped Mom clean up the kitchen, we all went back in the living room. Aunt Billie said,”This is for you, Carol” and she handed Mom the laptop computer she always carried. “Welcome to the twenty-first century. I got myself a new tablet for Christmas. I want you to have my old laptop. I’ll hook up a WiFi for you as soon as I finish this coffee.”

Mom was all like, you didn’t need to do that and so on. I said,”Does this thing play thumb drives?”

“Sure Katy, it does everything. I’ll show you and your Mom how to work it after I set up the WiFi.”

I thought to myself I’d have to start working on the Chinese puzzle box I was holding onto for Mary.

It was a nice day just hanging out with Mom and Aunt Billie, and it flew by. Aunt Billie set up the WiFi without too much swearing. She showed us how to work the laptop, and as evening came, I asked if we could watch the DVD again and have more sex. Aunt Billie laughed and said that would be great, but she had to head home soon. Mom brushed my hair off my face with her fingers and said, “You have school tomorrow, angel, and me and Aunt Billie have to go back to work.”

I felt like crying. The holidays were over. That night while I lay in bed with my sock monkey Ingrid, I tried to open the puzzle box. Mom came up to tuck me in. She sat on the edge of the bed and asked if I was okay with everything that had happened. “Best Christmas holiday ever!” I told her. I had a few questions about sex stuff, and she answered them.

“Mom? Do you know how to open this?” She kissed my head.

“It has sliding panels on it. You have to find the first panel and slide it open. Then there are more to find. You have to find the right order to slide them in. Then the box will open.”

She took the box from me and put it on the headboard shelf. She tucked me and Ingrid in tight, kissed me, and said, “Sweet dreams, angel.” She turned off the lamp and went downstairs. I didn’t even think about school the next day. I just fell fast asleep.

Continue on to Chapter 10

Silver Lining, Chapter 2

  • Posted on June 29, 2017 at 12:43 pm

By Cassie

Justine woke up with a start — hot, flushed, and feeling incredibly horny. She hadn’t had an erotic dream for months, years even. And this one; this strange lesbian dream with her old childhood doll Pip mysteriously come to life, seemed to have strange undertones of incest about it.

Justine lay on the bed trying to think about the dream, to analyse it in her usual fashion, but eventually she succumbed to the desperate need to masturbate. She got up, walked to the shower unit and absently grabbed her long-handled hairbrush as she went. She held the hairbrush loosely in her hand as she stepped naked into the cubicle and turned on the water, patiently adjusting the temperature so that it was hot, but not scalding. She gripped and loosened the hairbrush in her hand. It had a slightly bulbous end, ridged and indented like a scored golf ball, and a longish handle leading to the brush. It had grown to be one of the things she used as a sex toy when aroused and in a hurry.

The shower gel made her skin soapy and slippery, and it was then that she leaned back against the wall of the cubicle, water spraying gently over her. She began to rub the tip of her hairbrush with the heavily scored edges against the soft and sensitive hood of her clitoris, moaning a little as the first wave of eroticism began to build within her. She used the fingers of her left hand to spread open the soft folds of her labia, then worked the handle of the hairbrush inside herself as she began to orgasm. In sexual matters, Justine had always been blessed with two things: the ability to orgasm quickly — within minutes, sometimes, when she felt very horny with David — and her capacity for sexual activity.

Although she was not adventurous with her own sexual explorations, Justine had always been a willing sexual partner. On occasion, when she was very horny, Justine liked to be tied or restrained a little, and didn’t mind at all if she were spanked. She also liked to be filled, and had once been stretched so far that David had slipped his whole hand inside her.

She remembered that time now and, thinking about it, removed the hairbrush from herself and reached up, grabbing the much larger, dome-capped shampoo bottle. It was not an obvious sex toy, being a little more than two inches wide down the mainly cylindrical bottle. But Justine was feeling very horny and began to work the large bottle inside herself.

She closed her eyes, feeling and hearing the splash of the water around her, thinking about sex. She tried to think about David, but his face wouldn’t come. She tried to think about others in her masturbation fantasy — the airline assistant Rosa whose short blond hair Justine had touched and caressed as they kissed outside Columbus Bar. But the woman’s image wouldn’t come either. She tried thinking about Pip, but could only see in her mind’s eye the inert, lifeless doll of her memory, not the vibrant, wanton and utterly irresistible young girl of her recent dream. She even tried thinking of Jan, the dark-haired girl by the pool, laughing and smiling with that crooked smile of hers and taking off the bikini she wore to ask Justine to rub oil onto her skin.

But, in the end, as her orgasm grew and deepened, Justine saw within her mind a sexual nobody — a formless, faceless figure with thick hair, a slim lissome figure and outstretched arms. She imagined being embraced by those arms, kissing red lips, and touching soft, secret places on another’s body. She imagined the hands of a woman caressing her, enfolding her and touching her most intimate places. She imagined—

“Oh! Oh! Yes!! Oh—”

Justine did not remember what she called out as the powerful wave of orgasm hit her. She only remembered having nearly swallowed the shampoo bottle entirely within her vagina as that wonderful, frightening moment of orgasm stretched time itself. She remembered desperately pushing the large bottle out of her body, and the feeling of glorious sexual release as it slid out between her pussy lips and into her hand. She rubbed vigorously at her sensitized clit as the bottle came free, feeling wave after wave after wave of pleasure flush her body.

Eventually, after recovering and soaping herself once again, she got out of the shower, wondering why the image of an unknown, unseen woman was the most powerful one in her masturbation fantasy.

She dressed lightly, in a short summer skirt and blouse, and went down to the pool to find Jan. She had more questions to ask the enigmatic Portuguese girl. A lot more questions.

*****

Jan was not there. Nor, according to the hotel reception desk, in her room.

“I’m sorry,” said the clerk. “There’s no answer at all.” He put down the receiver, having twice called Jan’s room at Justine’s insistence.

Justine thought for a moment, tapping her manicured fingernail on top of the desk. “What room is she in?” she asked.

The man instinctively reached behind him, then stopped, turning round. “Am sorry,” he said, in his heavily accented voice. “I cannot tell room numbers. Is security.”

“That’s okay,” said Justine, smiling brightly for him, and waving a hand in dismissal. Besides, she had already seen his hand hover over the key for room C12. Justine turned around, and left the reception. She would find Jan herself.

But throughout that day, she did not see the dark-haired Portuguese woman. She gave up, after a light lunch in a tavern near the sea front, and went shopping instead, finding a few trinkets for herself and her friends. Buying them, she couldn’t help thinking about those mysterious birth parents and the even more tantalizing prospect of a sister. Were they real? The conversations she’d had with Jan had somehow materialized them in Justine’s head. She felt a renewed energy to find them, discover who they were.

Reaching the point where she had too many bags to carry, Justine quit the markets and went back to her hotel to drop them off and take a rest before going out to dinner. As she went into the hotel, she asked again at the desk if Jan was in. The clerk there tried once more and, once more, got no reply. Justine wrote a short note, and asked the clerk to leave it for Jan. Then she went back to her modest room and collapsed on the bed, closing her eyes for a few moments.

The telephone bell was a harsh ringing alarm that woke her out of her slumber with a start. Justine rolled over the bed and picked up the receiver, long strands of red hair getting in her eyes.

“Hello?”

“Ms Holloway, you have a call,” said the clerk. Justine sat up and rubbed her eyes. A call? Her immediate thought was that David had somehow tracked her down and was now badgering her and pestering her about his blonde mistress. But when the phone line clicked, and a new voice filled the earpiece, Justine relaxed.

“I never answer the phone,” said the voice on the other end of the line. Justine smiled, recognizing Jan’s voice already despite their very recent acquaintance. “When on holiday, at least. That is why it seemed I was out.”

“Yeah, I should have guessed. Maybe I should have done the same.”

“Ha! Too late. You’re a serial phone answerer, I can tell already!”

Justine smiled again, glad of a friendly voice.

“I got your note,” said Jan. “And wondered if you still wanted to go, or if it’s too late?”

“Too late? I—”

And then Justine recalled that she had penned a short note for Jan, asking if the Portuguese woman wanted to share her company for dinner that night. Justine also realized, with a start, that she had fallen into a much deeper sleep than she expected, and that the day had long slipped away. The digital clock on her bedside table read 20:54 and, seeing that, Justine felt the twin sensations of mild panic and rumbling hunger.

“Ohmyygosh! I didn’t realize — Give me five minutes. I’ll meet you by reception.”

“Okay. Bye.”

Justine rubbed her eyes, went into the bathroom and splashed her face with water. Then she changed clothes, pulling on a long white gypsy skirt, a turquoise blue vest top and light summer shirt before donning sandals, grabbing her handbag before she left.

When she got down to reception, Jan was waiting for her; dressed in three-quarter length trousers, a white and pink top, with her dark hair gathered up in a ponytail. She looked very 1950′s American. The two women embraced and kissed briefly, on the cheek.

“Hey,” Jan said, squeezing Justine’s hand. “You were pretty out of it, weren’t you?”

“Yeah,” Justine said. “It’s this late summer sun. Makes me sleepy.”

“Hungry?”

“You bet. Know anywhere good to eat?”

*****

The two women went into town and, after having a gorgeous seafood meal at a little backstreet restaurant Jan had discovered, moved on to a bar in the old quarter of town and sat drinking long, tall cocktails until the early hours. It seemed they had no end of subjects to talk about, but eventually, as though they had gravitated toward it, they talked about Jan’s involvement with her sister-sister website, and the whole concept of sexual love between siblings.

“I’ve heard from a few women who say they’ve enjoyed sex with their brothers,” said Jan.

“They were raped?”

“No. At least I don’t think so. I’m not interested in that. I’m interested in women.”

“Obviously!” said Justine, butting in. The two women giggled.

“In women who share a consensual love with their sister. I’ve been amazed at how many wonderful, strong women there are who have admitted this.”

“It seems unreal to me. Still. That two siblings — two sisters — would want to have sex with each other.”

“But it’s never as simple as that,” said Jan. “I’ve never had someone just e-mail me and say ‘Hi, Jan. I’m a beautiful twenty-something, and me and my twin sister have been fucking happily for years’. It just doesn’t happen like that.”

“So how does it happen?”

“Usually,” said Jan, pausing to sip her drink, “the hard way. Like all stories of love, sex between sisters can be a very painful and damaging thing, even when it’s consensual. But that’s not to say it’s wrong, or people should repress such feelings.”

“And if your sister suddenly told you she had feelings for you?”

Jan smiled. “She wouldn’t. She’s very happily married, and not gay.”

“But if she did anyway,” Justine said, pressing for an answer. “If she were still single, and a lesbian?”

“She would have to be a lesbian?” said Jan. This threw Justine somewhat.

“Well, yeah. I mean, she’d have to be—”

“A lesbian? You want to pigeonhole all of us together?”

Justine was confused. Sexual love between sisters meant they had to be lesbians, or at least ‘lez-curious’, surely? How could they not be? It was a prerequisite for the situation, right?

She voiced these thoughts to Jan, who only smiled sadly and shrugged. “Do you not think the path to love is sometimes a very rocky place?”

“Oh, yes,” said Justine, dripping with heavy irony. “Very.”

“And so, would it not be even more difficult if two sisters had feelings for each other that were a) believed to be immoral and incestuous, and b) opposite to their sexual preference?”

The thought struck Justine like a blow. She had not considered the complexity, or difficulty, of such a thing. She had assumed, up until that point, that all incestuous relationships were immoral and wrong, and had also assumed that all relationships between same-sex partners meant that they were homosexual.

“But that can’t be,” she said, rather unconvincingly.

“Why not? I have read accounts from women who say they have no homosexual desires whatsoever, and indeed have ordinary relationships with men or husbands, and yet feel strong sexual desires to their sisters, or close female relatives. How can this be easily explained?”

It could not, and Justine accepted that. She was about to ask more when her ear caught the tune of a new song being played, one that reminded her of her teenage clubbing years, and she put down her drink, smiling.

“Gotta dance!” she said brightly. She moved out into the small throng of people dancing in the centre of the floor, and started to move with the music. Jan left both hers and Justine’s handbags behind the bar, then moved out, joining her English friend on the dance floor.

Several dance tracks later and the girls were hot and thirsty. They drank some cold water first, then had one more cocktail before going back to the hotel.

They arrived, arm in arm, singing the tune of American Pie – which neither knew all the words to — both feeling lightheaded. That was when Justine made a mistake.

“Hey,” she said, smiling and whirling to take hold of both of Jan’s hands. “Do you want to come to my room for a bit?”

Jan smiled, but shook her head. “No, I am too tired. I need to go to sleep. I have to pack tomorrow.”

“You’re leaving tomorrow?” said Justine, sad that her new friend was leaving so soon. “Jan, don’t go. Stay a few more days. Till the weekend.”

Jan smiled sadly. “I can’t. But this has been great fun!”

Justine bit her lower lip. “Stay with me tonight?”

There was an awkward pause, and Jan reached out to stroke the side of Justine’s face. “Thank you. It’s very flattering, and you’re very pretty. But I must sleep, and get ready to go home.”

Justine, ignoring this, leaned forward to kiss her new friend. Jan turned her head at the last moment, as their lips almost met, and hugged Justine instead.

“Keep in touch with me, Justine,” she whispered into the Englishwoman’s ear. Justine felt her new friend hold her tight for a moment, and then she left.

Feeling a little dejected, but suddenly tired, Justine stumbled back to her room and, within minutes, fell asleep on her bed.

She awoke late into the morning, with a bad hangover, and began the slow process of recovery; starting with lots of water, then coffee. By the time she went down to the reception to ask about Jan, the enigmatic Portuguese woman had already checked out.

*****

Justine spent the last few days of her holiday quietly, soaking up the late summer sun and finding the time, at last, to relax properly. But one thing she could not shake was the persistent strange dreams she’d been having about her childhood, mixed with dark erotic thoughts. Nor could she dismiss the idea that she had to trace what she could of her birth family. It suddenly seemed more important than ever.

The flight back home was uneventful and, for the first week back at work, Justine managed to forget about the bizarre yet intriguing conversations she’d had with Jan. David had moved his things out of her flat, and the only communication she’d had with him was a series of curt, almost aggressive e-mails where he suggested that they try to patch things up so that he could “explain things” to her, and where Justine suggested he could go fuck himself — or his blonde mistress, if she’d still have him. He didn’t press the point.

It was on the second week that Justine was prompted into action. And it was a spam e-mail, of all things, that did it. She’d logged on, delighted to have received an e-mail a few days earlier from Jan, and was hoping for a further one when she decided to clear her spam e-tray. By chance, the top e-mail caught her eye. She didn’t open it, but stared at the title for a long while.

NEED HELP LOOKING FOR THAT SPECIAL ONE? read the title. The sender was named “Amanda Pullen”. It was probably junk of the lowest matchmaking variety. And yet.

Amanda. The other name relating to her birth parents that Justine had found. Was it her sister? Did Justine really need help finding out for sure?

She decided, right there and then, to take some leave from work. Her boss was understanding, given that she too knew about Justine’s break-up with David. And Justine, wasting no further time, spent the next few days researching the best way to find out about her long lost family. For some reason, although she knew more notionally about her birth parents, it was the promise of a long lost sister—this unknown “Amanda” which drove her on.

A week into her research, Justine had unearthed many new details about her parents. Her father, Walter, had died nine years ago, with heart failure recorded as the cause of death. A year later, Mary had emigrated to Australia and could not be traced, beyond a hint that she was living near Adelaide. The Jacksons, Justine’s birth parents, had left a house in Ashford, Kent, but that had been sold going on eight years ago.

But about her possible sister, this other daughter of Mary and Walter Jackson, Justine had found nothing.

Frustration began to set in, and Justine felt herself staring down a chasm of depression. She’d sent out hundreds of e-mails to various companies and individuals, in the hope of tracking down someone or something to give her a new lead.

After two weeks of fruitless searching, she went back to work. She refused offers from her girlfriends to go out for a drink, and also refused a dinner date with Marco; one of the newer guys in the administrative division. He was cute, no doubt, but Justine was in no mood for socializing, and people quickly saw that. Justine felt her depression getting worse, and would find herself some evenings crying whilst watching the TV, clutching onto a cushion and not knowing why she was sobbing so hard.

One silver lining to her current state was the occasional e-mails she got from Jan. Justine had browsed Jan’s internet site Sisters in Love and read some of the testimonials and forum topics, but had not contributed anything herself. She found some of the stories there fairly wild, but many of them were incredibly moving. These were women who had not only the strength to live through their incestuous feelings, but to share them with others.

It was November 15, in the commercial build-up to the Christmas season, when Justine received an e-mail that would change her life. It was marked as “Unknown Sender” and automatically placed in her spam e-tray. She was going through her e-mails, ready to delete them all, when her eye caught the e-mail title:

WALTER AND MARY JACKSON

Justine stopped, feeling that incredible sensation of butterflies as her finger hovered over the “Open” key. Of course, it could be a piece of spam, turned around from one of the many she’d sent out. But there was something undeniably desperate about her search for her lost family, so Justine opened the e-mail and read the short message:

Hello. You don’t know me, but your e-mail was sent to me by a company tracing old family names. I’m not sure if this is going to help you in your search, but my father is named Walter Jackson, and my mother’s middle name is Mary, though no one ever called her that. My dad died some years ago, and my mum left England. I don’t know who Amanda Jackson might be, but I’ve always had as a keepsake from my father a copper bracelet with the name ‘Mandy’ engraved on it. This may or may not help you, but I’d be happy to talk more about it.

The e-mail was signed by “Kelly Bracken,” who supplied her phone number.

Justine read the e-mail several times, then began laughing and crying, at the same time. She felt elated, like she’d won the biggest prize at school or the best bonus at work, then suddenly scared about what to do next. Part of her wanted to ring up Kelly Bracken immediately, and part of her wanted to square it all away; rationalize that her parents had gone, and that so had Amanda.

Then another thought struck her: could this Kelly Bracken actually be her mysterious Amanda?

Once the idea made itself known, Justine held it at arm’s distance. Don’t get your hopes up too high, she told herself. Maybe she is, maybe not. Are you even certain that these are your birth parents? If you put too much hope in this and it doesn’t pan out, you’ll be completely undone.

Elated, yet frustrated, she decided to sleep on the matter and hope for some kind of inspiration.

*****

Justine was sitting yet again at her school desk, scratching geometric designs into the wooden surface. It was one of those old-fashioned school desks with a lift-up lid and an inkwell at the back. She was bored, and could only hear Mr Everrard’s voice drone indistinctly as he talked about the end of the Tudor period.

Pip was sitting on the desk beside her; sitting on the knee of Kevin Bradman and snogging him relentlessly. Her doll’s legs were draped over Kevin’s thighs, and her arms hung limp at her side, just as a good doll’s arms should. But her red-painted cheeks, usually so uniform, were flushed with sexual excitement as she and Kevin kissed and kissed.

Justine was bored. She didn’t like Kevin, and she resented Pip snogging him so much.

“Well, why don’t you snog me instead?” said Pip, swinging free of Kevin, who disappeared along with the rest of the classroom. Justine sighed and walked over to the window by her room, staring out at the red-dappled leaves on the autumn trees in her garden.

“Because it’s wrong,” she said, stubbornly.

“Hmph. It’s only wrong because you’ve never kissed a doll before.”

“Of course I’ve kissed you before,” said Justine, smiling, and thinking of the times gone by when she and Pip shared an intimate kiss in bed together.

“So why not now? Aren’t I pretty enough?” Pip said, pouting her pretty doll’s face.

“Oh, of course you’re pretty,” said Justine, coming over to lay her hand on Pip’s cheek, feeling the soft warmth of her doll’s woven skin. “Much prettier than me.”

“No, I’m not!” said Pip, hotly. The doll reached out and adjusted the towel at the side of the pool they were both lying beside. Justine was not surprised to recall that it was the pool at the hotel where she stayed in Portugal. Pip let her doll’s hand drift over to Justine’s body and began to caress her childhood playmate’s thighs. “We’re just the same, you and I,” Pip remarked, allowing her hand to travel between Justine’s hot thighs. “We’re practically sisters.”

Justine felt Pip’s soft hand delve beneath the fabric of her bikini, and sighed, closing her eyes to the sweet, erotic sensations the doll was giving her.

“Like sisters,” she echoed, opening her legs and feeling Pip move closer to her.

*****

Justine woke up horny. Again. She showered, went to work and then came back, feeling distracted all that day.

That evening, after wrangling with the subject in her head, Justine composed an e-mail reply to Kelly Bracken, asking if she could phone her the next evening. The reply, when it came a couple of hours later, was short and to the point;

I left you my number.
Call anytime after 7.
Kelly

Justine sighed and finished the bottle of wine she’d opened before going to bed. She slept deeply, with no recollection of her dreams.

The next day, she could not wait for seven o’clock to arrive and, when it eventually did, she found that she couldn’t pick up her phone to dial the number. She had to remind herself that this might be her sister, possibly just a link to her parents, perhaps a clue to finding out who Amanda really was… or another dead end.

Anything was possible.

It was that thought, more than anything, that gave her the strength to call. For Justine, finding out about Amanda had become an obsession that she simply had to resolve.

“Hello?”

“….”

“Hello?”

“Is, uh, is that Kelly Bracken?”

“Yes, who’s speaking?”

“It’s, um, it’s Justine Holloway. You sent me a reply to my e-mail about—”

“Oh, yes, hi! You called. I didn’t think you would call!”

The voice was sweet, quite young, and a little on the rough side as far as Justine knew anything about voices.

“Huh. Yeah, I feel a bit silly really, calling you and and bothering you…”

“Oh, it’s no bother. You’ve just saved me from another bloody episode of Eastenders. You could slit your wrists watching that stuff. So how are you? I mean, who are you…?”

Justine barely knew where to begin. And, after twenty minutes of almost constant chatter about nothing in particular, Justine closed the call with a smile on her face. And an invitation to meet Kelly the next weekend. She felt light-headed and dizzy, like a teenager waiting for her first hot date.

She’d felt the temptation to find out, then and there, if Kelly was her actual birth sister… but in the end, couldn’t bring herself to ask such intimate questions over the phone. Too impersonal. She had to meet this woman face to face.

Justine couldn’t wait for the weekend to arrive.

Continue on to Chapter 3

Jeannie and the Bottle, Chapter 2

  • Posted on June 28, 2017 at 12:03 pm

By Amanda Lynn

“So, did you hook up with Marie?” Lisa asked, thumbing the pause button on the recorder.

Cheryl shot her a dirty look, then scribbled a few notes on a pad she had taken out of her shoulder bag while Amanda was telling her story.

“What?” said Lisa, holding her hands out palms up and shrugging her shoulders. “Curious minds and all that.”

“Patience. All will be revealed,” Amanda giggled, then took a drink of her coffee. Finding it was cold, she waved to the server, indicating she needed a refill.

After the server had refilled their cups and walked away, Cheryl said, “Ready to continue?” Then she added with a smirk and a nod toward Lisa, “Unless nosy here has more questions, that is.”

Releasing the pause button, Lisa jabbed Cheryl in the ribs. Amanda smiled and proceeded with her story.

*********

The hotel dining room was spacious and elegant. Another beautifully decorated Christmas tree stood just inside the entrance. A small island bar area divided the room in half, separating the numerous round, well-set, tables of the formal dining area from the family friendly daily-use side, which itself was designed to look regal.

As I was completing my brief glance around the room, an attractive young woman approached. “Hello,” she said, with a pretty smile. “Just yourself this evening?”

“Yes,” I replied.

She nodded and led me to a table for two that was along an inside wall with a view of the lobby, then handed me a menu as I sat down. “Can I get you a drink?”

“A glass of Pinot Noir, please, Sasha,” I said, having noticed her name tag.

“Certainly.” She smiled again, her gaze lingering on mine, then walked off. I followed her with my eyes, appreciating the wiggle of her ass.

In the mood for a steak, I searched the menu until I found their various selections of meat.

Sasha returned a minute later. She set the glass of wine on the table. “Here you are. Have you decided what you would like to have? Or do you need some more time?”

“Yes. I will have the Filet Mignon, medium well. Baked potato and steamed asparagus, please.”

I closed the menu and handed it to her. When she took it from me, her fingers brushed mine. I saw the color rising in her cheeks as our eyes met.

“Excellent.” She turned and started off.

“Thank you, Sasha,” I said, after she’d taken a couple of steps. She looked back over her shoulder and smiled sweetly. Too bad she wasn’t on the menu, I thought to myself.

As I waited, I idly watched other patrons coming in from the lobby for dinner, then picked up the dessert menu and flipped through it while sipping my wine.

It wasn’t long before Sasha delivered the food, along with condiments. When everything was in place, I thanked her. Instead of walking away, she paused and asked, “Are you a guest of the hotel?”

“Yes,” I told her. “I’ll be here until Saturday.”

“Oh good. Uh, I mean, umm, that’s… nice,” the young woman stammered, her face turning red again. “I hope you enjoy your stay.” She averted her eyes then left the table.

I chuckled and picked up my knife and fork. As I enjoyed the steak, which was excellent, I watched her scurry around the dining room, admiring her form as she served other guests. More than once, she caught me looking at her. I was rewarded each time with a lovely smile.

Sasha visited my table on several occasions, making sure I was satisfied with the meal and that I had everything I needed. I assured her I did. When I was done, she cleared the dishes and offered me dessert.

“How about you?” I leered.

Sasha blushed again, even more deeply. She didn’t respond right away, evidently lost for words.

“No? Too bad,” I said. “Guess I’ll have to settle for the apple crisp and a cup of coffee then.”

“Ok—” She tried to speak, but her voice caught. She cleared her throat and spoke again. “Okay, um, right away.”

Sure enough, she was back with my coffee and dessert in short order. She placed them on the table along with a black leather folder that held my check.

When I finished eating, I sat back and opened the folder. The check was face down, and I saw that Sasha had written ‘Thank you’ on the back in very elegant handwriting, signing her name with a cute smiley face.

I turned the bill over and completed the total at the bottom, giving her a generous tip. There was also a business card from the hotel inside the folder. I picked it up to look at it, smiling at what I found when I turned the card over. On the back, Sasha had left her name and phone number. I closed the folder, slipping the card into my pocket, and finished my coffee.

On my way out, I handed the folder to Sasha. “Charge this to my room please,” I said.

She took it and smiled. “Did you enjoy your meal?”

“Yes, very much. And thank you for this,” I said, holding up the business card.

“You’re welcome.” She blushed yet again, looking down briefly then back up.

I left the restaurant and returned to my room. I stripped down to just my underwear, bra and panties, then pulled on my favorite silk robe, tightening the sash. The robe fell to a couple of inches above my knees, and I loved the feel of the material against my skin. I went to the wardrobe and gave my uniform a once over, ensuring it was ready for the morning.

It was still early, so I decided to order some wine and watch a movie. I called room service and requested a bottle of William Fèvre Chablis Beauroy. Then I sat down in one of the comfy armchairs and turned on the TV.

I was still channel surfing when I heard a knock at the door. After muting the TV, I got up and headed for the door, tossing the remote on the bed. I opened the door.

Standing before me was the most beautiful girl I had seen in a long time. She was petite, no more than 5 foot 3. Her glossy deep brown hair had been pulled back into a ponytail. She had olive skin and a narrow face, her cheekbones highlighted by just the right amount of blush. Her lips were temptingly full, colored a light pink. Her large dark eyes were utterly captivating. I couldn’t help but stare into them.

The girl was in her early twenties, I guessed, knowing she had to be at least nineteen to serve alcohol. This alluring little thing, it occurred to me, was young enough to be my daughter if I had one. That thought sent a thrill of excitement through me. A lot of my hottest erotic fantasies are of sexual relations between mother and daughter.

“Shall I bring it in?” she asked in a silky voice, bringing me out of my trance.

“Uh… yes, of course. On the table, please,” I said.

What was wrong with me? I was mesmerized by this creature. I had seduced plenty of women over the years. Now I felt like I was thirteen again and about to kiss a girl for the first time.

I moved out of the way and she smiled pleasantly as she carried in the tray with a silver bucket holding the bottle of wine embedded in crushed ice. There were two long stem glasses on the tray. The young brunette was dressed in the standard hotel uniform consisting of black slacks, a white button-down shirt with a black tie, and a maroon vest. The hotel logo was embroidered on one side of the vest, and a gold name tag with black lettering was on the other.

I followed her to the table, watching her cute round ass wiggle as she walked. She set the tray down and handed me the bill folder while looking up at my face, smiling prettily.

“I hear this is an excellent wine,” she said. Her voice was soft. I took the folder and completed the bottom section.

I looked at her, and wondered if perhaps she was hinting at something. “Would you like to share a glass with me?” I asked, just as softly.

“Oh, that’s sweet, but I’m still on duty.”

“How about this,” I started. I reached for my wallet and took four twenties from it. I folded the bills and approached her. I stood very close and had to look down to meet her gaze. Her eyes were wide, and I could see both a touch of fear and excitement in her expression. “After your shift is done, you can buy another bottle and bring it to my room for us to share,” I finished, using my best seductive voice. I pushed the money into a pocket on her vest as I read her name tag.

“If you don’t want to, Jeannie, that’s okay, and you will have made a nice tip,” I said smiling.

She held my gaze for a moment. We were close enough that I could hear her swallow and feel her warm breath on my chest. I took a slow step back and watched her look me up and down, from head to toe. The young woman diverted her gaze away from me and to the floor.

“I um, I don’t, um, I need to get back to work now,” she said as she headed for the door with a bit of urgency in her step. She glanced back at me. The corners of her mouth curled up slightly. Then she was out the door.

I sipped at the wine for the next couple of hours and watch a pay-per-view movie. Well, actually it was a porno — one in which a mother catches her teenage daughter eating her best friend’s pussy and then the mother has sex with the daughter’s friend while the daughter watches. Very hot. I’d noticed in the opening credits that the two actresses who played the mother and daughter had the same last name, Katz, and I couldn’t help but wonder if they were actually related.

Once it was over, I turned off the TV. My fingers had been inside my panties, teasing my pussy all during the movie, and I was about to hop on the bed and finish pleasuring myself when I heard a soft knock on the door.

I jumped, and my heart started to pound. Could it be? I sure hoped it was. I got up from the chair, pulling my robe loosely around me as I made a dash for the door. I peeked through the peephole. I could have squealed like that thirteen-year-old I mentioned earlier. I tried to compose myself, then opened the door. Sweet little Jeannie stood there, still in her uniform and holding the bottle of wine.

“Is your offer still good?” she asked, her eyes shining and her smile bright. My god, she was beautiful.

“Yes, of course. Please come in and make yourself comfortable.” I said, with maybe a little too much enthusiasm.

She giggled, then made her way over to the table, where she took a corkscrew from her vest pocket and opened the bottle. The cork came out with a pop. Jeannie poured us each a glass of wine. She handed one to me and held hers up.

“Here’s to a pleasant evening,” the girl said, as our glasses clinked together.

“I’ll drink to that,” I replied, motioning for her to sit down.

She settled into an armchair, crossing her legs. “So, you have me at a bit of a disadvantage. You know my name, but I don’t know yours.”

“You’re right,” I chuckled. “I’m Amanda.”

I stepped in front of her, holding out my hand as I introduced myself.

She took my hand and gently squeezed, holding it for several seconds. She looked up at me, studying my features. My pulse was racing, and the soft touch of her dainty fingers only amplified my already heightened state of arousal.

“So, Amanda, what brings you to our nation’s capital?” she asked, then sipped her wine.

I sat in a chair near hers, and said, “A seminar and workshop for some new software the military is adopting. Quite boring, actually.”

“Oh, I see. Classified stuff?”

“Not at all. It’s a new administrative and payroll program. Supposed to make life easier. I’ll believe it when I see it, though,” I laughed, then asked, “What about you? Are you from Ottawa?”

“Born and raised. I recently earned my diploma in Hospitality and Tourism. I plan on going back to school with the goal of one day managing a large hotel like this one.”

As the young brunette spoke, she kept glancing down at my chest where my robe ‘accidentally’ had come open, revealing my bra. I watched her as she undid the tie around her neck, then opened the top two buttons of her shirt. She also unbuttoned her vest.

“That feels much better,” she said with a smile. “Do you mind if I take off my shoes? My feet are killing me.”

“Be my guest,” I nodded.

Now here was an opportunity if there ever was one. “In fact, here, let me help you relax,” I said. Before she had a chance to react, I stood and scooted my chair closer, directly facing hers, then sat back down.

“Give me your foot,” I instructed.

She just looked at me, hesitating, not quite sure what I was up to. “That’s not really necessary.”

“No, I insist. You’ll thank me, I promise.”

I smiled at the girl, holding my hands out. Her eyes never left mine as she raised one foot up. I gently took her foot in my hand and rested her heel on my knee. I unlaced the shoe and slid it off her foot, then placed my hands on her ankle and slowly slid them up to the top of her sock. I pushed two fingers from each hand into the sock and slowly moved it down and off her foot.

Jeannie watched me intently, not moving. She bit her lower lip, then took another, larger drink of wine.

Once that first sock was off, I placed her foot back on the floor and motioned for her to raise the other one. She brought it up, and I repeated the process. Jeannie squirmed a bit, and I heard her breathe a soft sigh. I took her bare foot in my hands, holding it with my fingers on the top of her foot and my thumbs resting on the sole.

“Are you ticklish?” I asked.

She shook her head as I began to rub her foot, moving my thumbs in circles, from her toes to her heel and back. I continued for a few moments, then switched my hands around, so my thumbs were on top and massaged some more. I put the heel of my palm on top of her toes and pushed them down so they would curl under. Jeannie let out a little grunt when a couple of her toes cracked.

“You okay?” I asked.

“Yes, that feels marvelous. Please don’t stop.”

I grinned at her. You’ll soon be begging me not to stop if I have my way, I thought to myself. I continued the massage up to her ankle where I rubbed it, flexed it, and rotated it. Once I was finished with that foot, I went back to the first foot and repeated the procedure.

By then, my panties were soaked. I was extremely turned on, partly from the sexy movie I’d watched earlier, but mostly from touching the soft, smooth skin of this beauty. I wondered if she was getting just as aroused too. She had already drunk two glasses of wine by this point, and I could hear her breathing harder. While I was massaging her ankle, I placed a finger on her lateral tarsal artery, just behind the ankle bone. Sure enough, her pulse was strong and rapid. The girl was definitely excited.

I put her foot on the floor and sat back. My robe had come open all the way, and I made no effort to close it. I saw Jeannie look down at my crotch and hold her gaze there for a few seconds. I spread my legs a bit wider. I was certain she could see the wet spot that had formed on my panties. My heart was pounding, and so was my clit.

I stood up, took a big swallow of my drink, then poured myself another glass and refilled hers. She looked up at me, and our eyes met. She grinned, saucily. I wasn’t really sure who was seducing who.

“How was that?” I asked.

“Mmm, wonderful…” She breathed a contented sigh. “Maybe you could do my shoulders as well?”

I moved behind her, gently placing my hands on her shoulders. Jeannie stiffened for just a second and then relaxed. A soft moan escaped from her lips as I squeezed and rubbed the soft fleshy area of her shoulders, just above her collarbone, while my thumbs kneaded the muscles of her back.

As I continued to rub the girl, I leaned in and slowly inhaled her aroma. There was a faint hint of lilac, most likely the lingering scent of shampoo she had used that morning. It didn’t really matter to me, as any fragrance from her would have been just as intoxicating as this was right now.

“Ooh, that feels so good, Amanda,” she cooed.

“Would you like a whole-body massage?”

Jeannie looked back over her shoulder at me. She didn’t speak, but nodded instead. I stepped in front of her and held out my hand. Jeannie took it, and I drew her to her feet.

“Strip down to your underwear,” I suggested, “and I’ll get some lotion.”

She hesitated, folding her arms across her chest and looking down.

“You don’t need to be shy,” I told her, as I shrugged my robe off, letting it fall to the floor. “We’ll be dressed the same.”

“But… I’m not wearing a bra,” the girl mumbled.

I grinned, then licked my lips and unhooked my bra from the front, dropping it on the floor beside my robe.

“Better?” I asked.

Jeannie’s eyes widened. Her gaze went from my tits up to my face then back down to my tits. She smiled, slowly raising a hand. “Wow, they’re beautiful. Can I…”

“Please,” I whispered.

She cupped one fleshy globe and squeezed it. A bolt of lightning shot through me. My pussy was on fire. She moved her hand up and played a finger over the hard nipple. Then she did the same with the other one. I moaned, and she pulled her hand away.

“Sorry,” she said, as if she had done something wrong.

“Don’t apologize, sweetie. That feels nice, very nice. Now, come on, let’s get you out of these clothes.”

While I helped take off her vest, I asked, “Is it all right if I undress you?”

Her face reddened. “I… I guess so. I’ve never had anyone else undress me before.”

“That’s a shame,” I said, as I began to unbutton her shirt.

When more of her body was exposed, I could see why Jeannie had no need for a bra. Her breasts were tiny but very cute. I tugged the shirt out of her slacks, and after all the buttons were undone, slid it off her shoulders and down her arms. As soon as she was free of the shirt, her hands went to her chest, covering herself.

I smiled and took her wrists, gently pushing her hands to her sides. “Don’t be embarrassed, sweetie. Be proud of what you have.”

“But they’re so small,” she said ruefully, “like little girl boobs.”

There’s nothing wrong with little girl boobs, especially on little girls, I thought to myself, remembering all those summer nights as a preteen, playing naughty games with my cousin. Oh, how we loved exploring each other’s bodies with our hands and mouths, touching and kissing our budding breasts and virgin pussies.

*********

“Wait — is that part true?” Lisa asked, pausing the recorder again.

“What part?” said Amanda.

“The part about, uh, about you and your little cousin. Is that true? How old were you then?”

“Lisa,” Cheryl admonished, “stop interrupting!”

“It’s all right,” Amanda chuckled. “I don’t mind. Yes, it’s true that I fooled around with my cousin, starting when I was twelve and she was eleven.”

“Wow, that’s nice,” Lisa grinned, arching her eyebrows.

“Of course, that’s another story altogether,” said Amanda, “which maybe we’ll get to someday. But don’t you want to finish this one first?”

“Yes, we do,” said Cheryl, giving her wife a playful frown. She pushed Lisa’s hand off the recorder and prepared to start it again. “Please go on.”

Continue on to Chapter 3

Amber, Chapter 2

  • Posted on June 27, 2017 at 11:53 am

By Tater Tot

I didn’t wait for Amber to be embarrassed in the morning, just gave her a slap on the butt and said, “All right kiddo, time to get ready for school.”

She hopped out of bed pretty quickly and gave me a shy smile, but didn’t blush and act like a spaz. I grinned as I headed down to get breakfast together while she got cleaned up and dressed. I only worked Tuesday and Thursdays as the divorce settlement had left us in good shape, so had time to do things I wanted. At thirty-two having free time was a true gift, so I spent a lot of time at the gym or playing tennis with friends.

Amber gave me another shy smile when she came in, but we didn’t say anything about what had happened. I wasn’t surprised to see her looking at my breasts when she thought I wasn’t looking, and I in return was looking at her pert little ass. I almost laughed as she was heading to the bus as I thought about how weird it all was.

I was horny and had plans for that afternoon. My tennis partner was a young woman at the club named Kathy that had started a couple of weeks after me and had needed a partner. She was twenty-one and shy at the time, so I had been nice enough to offer. We had hit it off pretty well and one thing led to another and we had ended up having sex. It was her first time with a woman, so I had had a lot of fun showing her what to do. Now we got together periodically when one of us wanted to, mainly when her husband was traveling.

We had fun playing tennis for an hour, then headed to the showers. No one else was there, so as soon as we stepped into the showers I pushed her against the wall and kissed her hard, my hands coming up to fondle her breasts. She struggled a little, but froze and gasped as I dropped to my knees and shoved my face in her pussy. Kathy put her hands on my brown hair as I started licking and kissing her, getting wet very quickly. I was moaning myself as I brought a hand up and slipped a finger in her wet cunt, sliding my tongue up and down, then over her clit as I plunged it in and out.

The public nature of what we were doing must have really excited her, because it was only a couple of minutes before she came, covering my hand as I licked her until she stopped thrashing. Getting up, I grabbed her face and tongue-fucked her mouth, having her taste herself for a moment before pushing her to her knees and holding her head to my soaking pussy. I had one hand on the wall and the other on her head as she grabbed my ass and let her tongue do what I had taught her.

I was hornier than I thought, coming explosively within a minute, grinding her face into my pussy as I rode out my orgasm on it. I collapsed to my knees and started licking her lips clean as I panted.

“Horny much?” she giggled.

“God, yes,” I said. “I needed that.”

She helped me up, then kissed me and said with a grin, “Any time.”

We laughed and fondled each other in the shower until another member came in.

*****

I had had an idea earlier and spent the rest of the day thinking about it, trying to decide how far I wanted to go with my daughter. When Amber came home and dropped her book bag in the corner like normal, probably not planning to do homework as usual, I decided, What the hell.

When she sat at the table, I sat down across from her and watched as she ate the sandwich I’d made, getting shy looks from under her bangs as I tried to decide what to say.

“I was thinking about what we did last night,” I started, getting a blush from her, but pushing on. “You enjoyed it, and I think it was good for you to learn these things without having to get porn off the internet or waiting for some girl or boy to teach you.”

She lost the blush and looked interested, my straightforward tone causing her to listen as if it was a normal conversation.

“I was thinking we could continue that, letting you learn about yourself and how sex can be, if you’re interested,” I said to her. She did look interested, blushing and opening her mouth to lick her lips as she nodded. I smiled and added, “You would need to do your schoolwork and study hard, but if you did we could continue doing that on Tuesday and Thursday night and on the weekends. Would you like that?”

I raised an eyebrow, watching as she squirmed in her seat. I think she was disappointed it wouldn’t be that night, but she said, “Sure, Mom, that would be great.”

I pointed at her book bag, then gathered her dishes to clean as she got to work. It was great not to have our normal fight over Amber getting homework done. “If you start bringing home A’s, maybe you could earn special rewards,” I said without looking at her.

My pussy was worn out that night as I thought about those special rewards — as I’m sure hers was.

The next day Amber came in and went straight to her school work, putting in a good hour before heading to her room and spending time on the phone. I was surprised when she came down and sat with me to watch TV, but it was nice to spend time with her for once. She was periodically squirming and red-faced, but I didn’t laugh, just smiled in anticipation.

Later, I was sitting in bed in my sleeping t-shirt when Amber came in in her pajamas, stopping by the side of the bed, blushing and nervous. I smiled and laid on my side again as I said, “Why don’t you take those things off? It will be easier if you’re naked, honey.”

She blushed brightly, but didn’t hesitate to shed her things. I watched closely, enjoying the sight of her slim young body and small little breasts. She had a small growth of hair around her pussy I could see before she slid under the covers.

I turned off the light and snuggled close again. Reaching over her, I let my hand rest on Amber’s belly as I got into my previous position with my head beside hers.

“You stay after school again,” I began. “Ms. Thomson wants you to get some more special instruction. She locks the door again and has you stand in front of her. Her hands run around your body as she asks, ‘Are you ready for some more instruction, Amber?’”

I let my hand run across her belly, down her hip and around to her ass, cupping it gently as she mumbled, “Yes.”

I grinned at that and let my hand run back around, then reached up to cup her small breasts, getting a loud gasp from her. “Ms. Thomson starts playing with your pretty breasts, telling you how firm they are. She unbuttons your shirt and pulls it open, takes your bra down, then leans forward to take a nipple in her mouth.” I tweaked her nipple as I said that, getting a loud groan from her. My hand went back to palming her small breast — not quite a handful, but with very hard nipples.

“Ms. Thomson plays with your breasts for a time, kissing and licking them, pinching the nipples, moaning about how pretty they are and how she loves to taste them.” I pinched, squeezed and tweaked her breasts for awhile, then moved my hand down as I said, “She starts to kiss her way down your stomach, stopping to play with your belly button, then slides your skirt off, leaving you standing in only your panties.”
My hand cupped her hip as she started to make squeaking noises, her hips undulating slowly. “She drops to her knees in front of you and licks the front of your wet panties,” I said as my hand slid across and onto her very wet pussy. Amber made a loud moaning noise, surprising me at how excited she was after only a few minutes.

“‘Shh,’ she says, ‘we don’t want anyone to hear.’ Then her hand comes up and slides your panties off, leaving you standing in the classroom naked, her kneeling in front of you. Her face moves forward and her tongue licks your pussy, sliding between your lips, tasting your delicious flavor.” My hand slid up and pushed along her pussy, getting a loud groan and a hard thrust of her hips. She was gasping, breathing fast and heavy.

“She licks up and down, sliding her tongue in a little as it passes over your channel, her hands cupping your ass as she pulls you against her face.” My finger pushed against her opening every time I passed it, putting pressure there, but not yet entering. I did this for a couple of minutes as I continued. “Ms. Thomson is moaning as she tongue-fucks you, very excited to have her mouth on your tight little pussy. Between licks, she says, ‘I want to fuck you one day, Amber’.

I let my finger enter slightly as Amber came once again. It was even stronger this time, drawing a short, high pitched scream as she pushed against me and her hand reached down to hold mine against her pussy. Her hips humped me for a moment, each thrust in time with a small surge of wetness. I was impressed, this was a very strong orgasm.

She released my hand as she sort of sagged against me, breathing heavily. Once again I licked my finger clean, enjoying her young flavor as she watched me through half-closed eyes. And once again I masturbated to a strong orgasm after she fell asleep.

Continue on to Chapter 3

Talking to My Daughter

  • Posted on June 26, 2017 at 3:20 pm

By Misty Meadow

Yes, darling, I’m here in my bedroom. Come on up; put your backpack in your room and take your shoes off. Leave your socks on and come in here. I want to talk to you.

How was school today? Good. Listen, I just got an email from your Aunt Jane. No, I’m sorry, hon, she isn’t coming to visit us; she’s very busy and can’t afford the airfare all the way from America. But she asked me to send her some pictures of you. How’s that sound? I thought we could take our time and shoot a whole lot of them, like a series… you know, the ones where you’re lifting your dress, letting us see underneath.

…Yes, hon, just like that — but don’t raise your skirt just yet. We all know what you look like with it lifted up under your chin and, yes, it is exciting… but I was thinking of something much more ambitious, starting with you fully dressed in your school uniform.

Speaking of which, I’m gonna have to buy new uniforms for you next term. You’re growing fast and that skirt is dangerously short — not that I mind! As far as I’m concerned, the shorter the better, but the school’s already sent me a letter saying that it’s inappropriate and shouldn’t be more than than six inches above the knee.

Here, darling — bend down, turn your back to the mirror and look between your legs. See how your knickers are showing? No, don’t move, I wanna get a picture of that. There. Oh, that’s a sexy look, come and see. My sister will like that, but we can do lots more.

Hmm? Oh, I was thinking of having you doing a striptease for the camera — a couple of dozen pictures of my sexy little girl undressing down to her knickers, then you finally take them off to show yourself in all your naked glory.

No, my darling, you’re not just a skinny kid. I admit that you look a lot younger than eleven and your boobs haven’t started to grow just yet, but to me you’re petite and slender and look deliciously innocent… even though we both know that you aren’t innocent in the least, are you?

Anyhow, you shouldn’t worry about being thin. I bet that when you do grow up, you’ll have one of those supermodel figures and be able to eat anything without putting on an ounce. You don’t need big drooping tits to be sexy. Sexiness is mostly attitude, darling. That’s the truth of it.

D’you know what made you so exciting in those pictures we took last month — the ones with you spread out on the kitchen table? It was the way you were displaying yourself so openly, with that inviting smile I love so much. It was as though you were saying, ‘Look at me, I’m sexy.’ And you were, too!

Anyway, I think Aunt Jane would really enjoy a few naughty snaps of you. My sister loves the sight of little girls with no clothes on, just as much as I do.

Wait, you already knew that? Oh, really — and how did you find that out, little lady? Did Jane sneak a peek at you the last time she visited? Hold on, don’t tell me, I’ll bet I know. She came into the bathroom while you were in the tub, didn’t she? Well, you see, that’s what she used to do to me when we were young. It bothered me at first, but then I began to like letting my big sister see me naked.

Did she take a picture of you in the bath? You never told me about that! Oh, of course I wouldn’t have been angry, darling. You know I like to show you off to my lesbian friends. Jane’s gay herself, after all… oh, you knew that too? Not much gets past you, does it? Little minx. Give Mommy a kiss.

Oooohh, baby girl, I love your kisses. Your mouth is so soft and sweet.

Yes, we’ll kiss some more, but first I want you to take a shower, darling, then dress in clean knickers and a blouse and clean socks. Put the same skirt back on, though.

Want Mommy to shower with you? In that case, let me get out of this dress. There. You like my knickers? Think they’re sexy? Yes, darling, I’ll buy you some naughty lingerie, but for the moment, you look perfectly adorable in your white cotton ones, like all the other little girls wear. There’s nothing lovelier than a pretty little girl, you know.

No, don’t take your knickers off yet, I’ve something special in mind. Let’s go into the bathroom.

Do you need to pee? Perfect, I was hoping you did. Here’s what I want you to do. No, not in the toilet, in the shower — and don’t take your knickers off. Yes, pee right through them, like that time last summer when we were walking across that meadow where the cows were, and you just lifted up your dress and peed right through your knickers. You looked so fucking sexy! You did, darling, honestly. Shit, I left the camera in the bedroom. Be right back.

There we are. Okay, into the shower with you. No, no, don’t undress, just take your socks off and step into the stall and hold the front of your skirt up like you did before. I’m gonna crouch down, so I can get a shot of you from a low angle. Ready to pee now? Okay, darling, just smile and let it go.

Ooh, perfect. I got half a dozen awesome shots of your pee streaming down between your thighs. Here, let me feel how wet you are between your legs. Squish, squish! Oh, I love the feel of wet knickers. Cotton is especially absorbent, so it holds a lot of pee, not like my nylon ones.

Now it’s all over my hand. Hmmm? No, it doesn’t smell bad. Actually, fresh pee smells very good… and it has a nice earthy flavor, too. Well, maybe not at first. I guess it’s what they call an acquired taste.

Okay, now you can get undressed. Just throw everything on the floor. Wait, leave your knickers on. We’ll start the shower, and you can rinse them while you’re still wearing them. Careful, not too hot. All right, now that they’re wet, pull the waist up at the front to… yes, a camel toe. Here, let me get a shot of that.

God, that’s such a naughty sight. I can see your tinkle through them! Well, what do you call it? Oh, my… Goodness, darling, where did you learn that word? Cunt. Did you pick that up at school? No, I don’t mind, in fact I like it when little girls use that kind of language. Okay, since you call it that, so will I.

Anyhow, like I was saying, your cunt is perfectly visible through the wet cotton. Lift one leg and put your foot on the edge of the tub, and I’ll take some more pics. Oh, very nice. That looks deliciously depraved!

What? “Depraved,” that’s what I said. It’s another way of calling something dirty. Not unclean dirty, sexy dirty.

Do you? Fair enough, then. I’ll pee through my knickers if you like. Move over. Actually, why don’t you take pictures of me while I do? Wait, darling — dry your hand before you touch the camera. There you go.

Ready? Oh, this is lovely, peeing through my knickers. Makes me feel like a naughty little girl again. Yes, I did pee my pants when I was a kid, anytime I could get away with it. I’d do it with my friends, out in the fields and woods where no one could see us. Oh, we pretended it was a joke, but I’m sure they were every bit as thrilled as I was. Now look, darling — my knickers are transparent like yours. You can see my cunt!

Here, give me your hand. Feel how wet I am? Hmm, I need a shave, don’t I? Here, I’ll take my knickers off and you can feel how stubbly I am. See, it feels rough, doesn’t it?

Will you shave me later, sweetheart? I like being shaved by you. Your touch is so gentle.

Come back into the shower with me, we’ll get clean together. You can soap my back and I’ll soap yours, we’ll take turns.

Oh, darling, you have such a lovely little body. I know I’m always saying it, but it’s true, especially your tight little bum. Let me lather it… now I’ll run my hand down between your cheeks to make sure you’re nice and clean. If you relax your bum hole, I’ll push my soapy finger in and you’ll be so clean that you’ll never get skid marks on your knickers. How does that feel? Oh, you like it, huh? Do it to me, push your finger all the way in and pump it in and out. Mmm, you’re making me tingle all over!

Now I’m gonna wash your front, your cute little titties. I know, they haven’t grown in yet, but let me show you something. I wanna tweak your nipples to see if they react. Ooh, look, they’re getting hard! Tiny, yes, but so incredibly sexy. Honestly, I think that a little girl’s nipples are more thrilling than a woman’s breasts could ever be.

Now I’ll do your tummy and yes, darling, your cunt. You don’t think I’d ever pass up a chance to touch my precious child there, do you? I’m gonna take my sweet time doing it, too. Doesn’t that feel lovely?

Why don’t you wash mine, too? See how many fingers you can get inside me. Yes, I’m wet and that’s not just water, by the way — your mommy is very excited, and it’s you that made me that way. Ooh, yes, three fingers; now try four, okay? Later, you can try to get your thumb in there too, but not just yet. Tell you what — we’ll save that for later, putting your whole hand inside Mommy’s vagina. No, no, it won’t hurt… but even if it does, it’ll be worth it. Sometimes things are good because they hurt a little bit, darling.

That was nice. Let’s get dry now. Here — you dry me, then I’ll dry you. Leave your knickers there on the shower floor, I’ll take care of them later. Yes, rub me with the towel all over, especially between my legs.

Goodness, you’ve never kissed my nipples before! That feels amazing. Bite it for me. Harder. Go on, you can bite harder than that! Ooooohh, yes! Mmmm, that’s nice. Now, do that to the other one. Ah! Okay, now suck on them, just like you did when you were a darling little baby. I love you so much, my sweet.

Now, I’ll dry you. Spread your legs and let me get… yes, just like that. Oh, my, if your Aunt Jane could see us now, she’d come in her knickers. She says they’re called panties in the States, but I prefer the word ‘knickers’, don’t you? Has a nice naughty ring to it.

Okay, bring the camera along. We’ll go into your bedroom and get you some clean knickers and stuff for you to pose in. You’ll only be in them for a minute, then I’ll have you strip again, all right?

Watching you dress is almost as exciting as when you undress, darling. Socks first — no, not the knee socks, the ankle socks. Now, while you get dressed, I’m gonna sit on the floor at the foot of the bed and take pictures. That’s nice, with your legs up like that.

Now put your blouse on and then your knickers. Yeah, pull them up to your knees and stand up. I wanna get a picture of with them at half mast. That looks so fucking sexy. Push your hips out for me, and spread the blouse wide open. Oh, perfect! Okay, pull ‘em up now, button your blouse and put your skirt on. There you go.

Now, baby girl, it’s time for you to take everything off again. Wait, first let’s go into the living room and do the whole thing with the floor-to-ceiling curtains as the background. That dark blue will contrast nicely with your skin.

Sit on the chair and lift one leg at a time to take your socks off so I can get a good upskirt… nice. Now the other sock. Skirt next, I think… yeah, stand up and just let it fall. Kick it aside, then slowly unbutton your blouse. Let it fall from your shoulders.

Now for the most exciting bit… you know what I mean, sweetheart.

Slow down, slow down! It’s so much better if you take your time. Slide them down inch by inch, then I can get half a dozen good shots before we see your cunt. I want to build the tension. Keep smiling, darling — your smile is the most important thing. I know you love doing this, but your face has to show it. Now, pull your knickers down just one more inch and we can see… mmm, there it is, your sweet little cunt, like a sideways smile. Spread your feet some, so your knickers stretch from thigh to thigh. Jane is gonna love this! Okay, let them fall. That was awesome.

Sit down again, then put your heels on the edge of the chair and spread your… oh, you’re ahead of me. I’m gonna come in for a close up.

Now I have your cunt filling the whole screen! I could get a print of this and blow it up until it makes a huge picture, and hang it on the wall. That’d be awesome, wouldn’t it? Visitors would ask, ‘What’s that?’ and I’d tell ‘em, “Oh, it’s my daughter’s cunt. She’s let you see the real thing if you want.”

Oh, sweetheart, you look so lovely when you laugh!

Okay, push the chair aside and get down on all fours, facing away. Lower your upper body. Oh, my God, what a lovely sight — both your holes, your sweet little rosebud and your cunt, glistening with moisture. Keep still, I’m getting several shots from different angles.

Actually, hold that pose for a second, I’m just gonna put the camera down and… Mmwa! D’you like being kissed on the cunt? Want another? Okay… Mwwwwa! This is fun. Sure, you can kiss mine later, but now I want you lying on your back with your legs spread as wide as they’ll go. Hold your arms out, like you’re inviting a lover to come lie on top of you. Wow, that’s utterly fucking lewd. Now sit up and spread your cunt open with your fingers. Look down at it…. now look up and smile at the camera. Perfect!

Pictures of me? Sure, I don’t see why not. Yes, Jane will like them. So… I’ve never I told you that she and I used to fool around and do naughty things when we were your age, did I? Oh yes, we did indeed! First, Jane taught me how to masturbate, then she showed me how to kiss… and hers was the first cunt I ever licked.

I think we’d be better off in my bedroom, on my bed, if we’re going to take more pictures. C’mon, let’s go. Oh, you know what? We’ll use the camcorder on its tripod and make a video for Jane. Give me a moment to get it set up.

While I’m doing that, why don’t you get into a sexy pose? Here’s an idea — lie back on the bed, bring your knees up, let them fall outwards and press the soles of your feet together. Oh, sweetie, that looks perfectly pornographic.

Okay, I’ve got the camcorder on and recording. Hold that position for just a bit — I’ve got to get that on the video. There. Now Mommy’s going to play, too.

Want a back rub? Lie face down. What would you prefer… a massage, or soft caresses? Fine. Now relax, let me make you feel good, darling. I love doing this, running my fingertips up and down your body. Your skin is so perfect. Spread your legs a little, so that when I touch the insides of your thighs, my hand can stray between them and I can stroke your little rosebud with my finger.

Hmmm? Oh, I like having mine touched. Jane used to do that to me, you know. Even better, she liked to lick it, push her tongue up my bum as far as it could go. Really? Lick you there? No, I don’t mind, I was hoping you’d ask. Mmmmm…

…How was that? Lovely, wasn’t it? I know, it was ‘dirty’, but in a exciting way, like when we were peeing in the shower. ‘Intimate’ is a better word.

Would you like to lick my bum later, sweetheart? No problem, my pleasure.

Now roll over and I’ll do your front. My, my… I never get tired of looking at your naked body. Oh, look, your nipples are erect again! I think they need to be kissed. Mmmm, I think they like that.

Now, I’m gonna gently stroke your body, from your shoulders down to your knees… and you’ll forgive me if my fingers linger at your sweet, darling little cunt that I’m so in love with, right? Ah, well, I love it because it’s yours, sweetheart, and also because you like showing it off to me.

Do you, then? So who else do you allow to see your cunt? Your classmates? Teachers? What about the school nurse, when you fell and twisted your knee that time? Wait, wait — you’re telling me that she took off your knickers to examine your knee? That dirty old dyke! I supposed she touched you, too — how could she resist? No, it’s fine, sweetheart, you can let any girl touch you anywhere you like, but don’t ever let a boy anywhere near you. All they wanna do is fuck, then tell everyone about it. Girls are way more exciting, anyway. I’ve had both… and believe me, there’s no comparison.

Oh, you’re so wet… and you smell incredible! I love the scent of hot young cunt — God, how it turns me on.

Now I wanna do something that will make your Aunty Jane come in her knickers. I’ll kneel between your legs, lean in and kiss your gorgeous, sexy little cunt… but first, I need to move the camcorder to one side so my head doesn’t get in the way of the shot. There, that should do it.

Okay, ready? Just a little lick at first, a sweet tickle to get you started, though you seem to be well on the way already. Reach down and hold my hair to one side so the camera… that’s right. Mmmmmm, oh, you sweet, darling cunt, I love you so much. Mmmmm… oh, you’re trembling! Your face and chest are flushed. No, that’s fine, darling. It only makes you look more beautiful.

Now I want to do something that should have you climbing the walls. I’m gonna put two fingers deep inside you and touch your G spot. Try to relax for me, okay? Easy… easy… there, I think I hit it. Doesn’t that feel amazing?

Again? You love this, don’t you? All right, then.

Yeah, that’s it! Come for me, darling, come for your mum. Oh, look at your face, all twisted up in ecstasy! That’s going to look incredible on the video.

Wow, I sent you over the top and then some, didn’t I? Here, I’ll pull out and let you rest for a bit. Mmmm, now I get to lick my fingers and taste you on them. Delicious!

What’s that? Oh, sweetie. You don’t have to ask permission for that — you can do anything you like to me, anything at all. Go ahead, get down between my legs and lick my pussy. Fuck me with your fingers and tongue.

Goodness — you’re an eager one, aren’t you? I’ve had my pussy licked by lots of women, but I’ve never seen anyone want it as much as you do…

Oh, my darling little girl, that feels exquisite! You’re driving me crazy! Mmm, that’s it, suck on my clit. Oh yes, yes. Suck it in and out of your mouth, really fast!

Wait — don’t make me come just yet. I want you to go into me, sweetheart.

Hold on. Let Mommy catch her breath… okay. First, put your fingers in me — three to start with. Now twist them round, back and forth. Ooooohhh! My God, that feels lovely. All right, now put another finger in, make it four. There’s plenty of room. After all, that’s where you came from when you were a baby.

No, it doesn’t hurt, sweetheart. In fact, You’ve got me so excited that my cunt has totally relaxed and yes, I’m dripping wet. That means I’m ready for more, for you to take me all the way. Okay, now fold your thumb into your palm and push your whole hand into me. Don’t be afraid, I can take it. Push harder! OHHHH! Oh, gracious, it’s gone right inside me. You did a good job, baby girl. A good job.

Make your hand into a fist now, and push it in further, until I tell you to stop. More… a little more, that’s it. Oh, my God. Oh. Look, darling, you’re inside my cunt halfway up your arm! Honestly, it really doesn’t hurt, though that beautiful hand of yours is making me shiver all over. Ohhhhh…

Now fuck me. Pump it in and out. Oh, sweet Jesus, this is indescribable! My own little girl is fucking her mommy’s cunt. Oooh, fuck me, fuck me! None of my other lovers can make me feel like you do!

Oh, yes. Ahhhh! Oh, my darling daughter, you’re making me come! I think — I think I’m g-gonna explode! Aaaagh! OHHHHH!

Stop, sweetie. That’s enough. Whooo! Jesus, that was awesome! I haven’t come like that since… never mind. It’s been a mighty long time, I’ll tell you that. Pull your hand out and see —  slowly, though, Mommy’s tender down there. Look at that, it’s dripping wet. Ha, I just knew you were gonna lick it. Good, huh?

So how was that, Jane? (I’m talking to the camera, sweetie.) Is my daughter sexy or what? You’ve gotta come and visit us and do what you did to me when we were kids… only this time, you’ll do it to my little girl, too. Goodbye, sis, hope you enjoyed the show.

Turn the camera off, sweetheart. Thanks.

You’re right, I can’t send the video to her as an email. Know why? It’s pure kiddie porn. If either your aunt or me got caught with this, they’d lock us under the jail. Instead, I’ll download it onto a thumb drive and put it in the mail, no return address. So if the authorities intercept it, they can’t trace it back to us.

Yes, it was fun, wasn’t it? Know what we should do next? We’ll go downstairs and drink a couple of large glasses of cranberry juice. Why? Because its acid will neutralise the alkalinity of our pee and make it taste better. I wanna drink straight from your cunt, my darling.

You too? But you’ve never drunk pee before! Well, if you feel sure you’re gonna like it, how can I say no?

But first, let’s just lie here in each other’s arms and love each other. I so enjoyed teaching you all those naughty things we just did, but I’m sure you’d have discovered it all for yourself before long. Just imagine, in a few days, your Aunty Jane will be watching us cunt licking and everything, plus she’ll see those sexy pictures I took.

What? Honestly, you hope she shows them to her friends? Oh, you fucking darling little slut!

No, darling, there’s nothing wrong with that. Know why? Because you’re my slut…

The End

Sweet Sister, Part One: Exploration

  • Posted on June 26, 2017 at 9:04 am

By Alfie Atkins

{ This story was originally posted at the now-defunct Sisters in Love }

Marisa Bartlett came from a big family. This had its upsides and its downsides, as she had learned over her fifteen years of life so far.

With ten children, herself included, there was more than enough to keep their parents busy. And despite the massive population, their home was always clean and well-kept, their mother attentive and devoted, their father sometimes brusk but always well-meaning, and all of the children got on exceptionally well, especially considering the amount of teenage hormones flying about the house, with the family members in various stages of puberty.

Marisa shared a room with her sisters Ebonie, who was thirteen, and Carlie, who was sixteen. For the most part, this was a comfortable arrangement. Ebonie was a softly-spoken, rather shy girl who very seldom voiced an opinion, leaving Marisa and Carlie pretty much in charge, which was just the way Marisa liked it.

She and Carlie, being so similar in age, shared such similar tastes that sometimes they surprised themselves with how alike they were. They enjoyed the same food, the same television programmes, the same music, they both loved cats, and both hoped to work in the fashion industry when they left home. Marisa and Carlie spent many hours chatting to each other about life in general, sometimes talking long into the night. They were more like very best friends than sisters, although a lot of people had commented on how alike they looked.

Marisa loved all of her family, but she had a special endearment to Carlie. She often felt that it was only she and Carlie in the house, in the room, cuddled up in bed together in flannel nightshirts as they discussed the sexiest boys and the best celebrities in minute detail.

Carlie would often sneak into Marisa’s bed in the dead of the night when Ebonie was asleep, or vice-versa. Sometimes Marisa would lie awake throughout the night, waiting to feel the cover being pulled back, letting in a blast of cold air — then feeling the warm silky flesh of Carlie’s thighs pressed against hers as she snuggled in tightly.

Marisa loved it when Carlie joined her in bed. It brought them somehow closer, to be snuggled together so tightly that you could not slip a piece of paper between them. It was also somewhat more intimate then a chat sat at a table, or on the sofa. This gave them the perfect opportunity to discuss all of the things that would normally be too taboo to discuss under everyday circumstances. Boys, sex, alcohol, drugs even, nothing was forbidden.

As the years passed, the chats had become more focused on sexual content. Marisa had heard in great detail about Carlie’s ‘first time’, and as she lay there, thigh to thigh with her sister, for a fleeting second she had felt a warmth course through her that was frightening in its enormity. It was wrong to feel that way, even for the briefest of instants, so she shoved it to the back of her mind and concentrated firmly on being her sister’s best friend and confidante, without any kind of weird sexual feelings getting in the way.

Ebonie would snore softly, deep in dreamland as the two of them carried out these secret trysts. Marisa found something quite thrilling in sitting up at 2 a.m., when they should have been asleep, talking in ways that should surely be forbidden. It was kind of cool to have this as their own ‘little secret’, and Carlie, sixteen going on thirteen, seemed to agree.

Both seemed to know instinctively that their parents would not be happy about how attached to each other they had become, and would restrain their affection for each other in public. But as soon as they were snuggled up together, Marisa would lay her head on the soft pillows of  Carlie’s breasts, while Carlie would absently massage Marisa’s slender shoulders. They always enjoyed this bonding time.

In the golden sunny days of summer, Marisa would run hand in hand with Carlie through the wide cornfield near their house. Feeling the wind whip her honey-golden hair around her face, Marisa would feel like the heroine in an romantic novel as they rolled and larked about in the soft yellow corn. They made a little den, and would go and sit on the flattened down corn, one using the other’s tummy as a pillow as they basked in the golden glow of the sun.

Marisa often thought that she would never find anyone as like-minded as Carlie to share her life with. Who else would run through cornfields like a little girl, hand in hand with her, or sit in a den and discuss useless nonsense, when she should have been out frolicking with boys or hanging ’round bike sheds smoking with other sixteen-year-old girls?

Marisa suspected that they both knew more than they cared to admit, though. She certainly did. When she had turned fifteen, Marisa had suddenly felt aware of her body and sexuality in a way she never had before. It wasn’t that she had any interest in any of the boys she met. Quite the opposite, in fact — it was more that she felt her feminine nature radiate from her body. She felt womanly. Her breasts were softening and forming nicely, the nipples tight and coral-pink, her hips were smooth, her thighs gently curving, her centre softly furred, the pulse deep within her secret flesh becoming more prominent.

When Marisa looked in the mirror, she saw a young, attractive, desirable woman, not a silly, soppy little girl. Boys had noticed this desirability, and she was taking advantage of it. She loved to lead them on, tease them, allow them little tidbits before denying them the prize they really craved. She suspected that Carlie would probably approve of this.

So far, Marisa had not actually let any boy go the ‘full way’ with her, although there had been much kissing and fooling around. She delighted in telling Carlie what these things felt like, how she enjoyed the teasing feel of boys’ hands riding up her thighs, grabbing with juvenile abandon at her breasts, poking clumsily at her softness. All this added up to considerable delight, though Marisa felt certain that she enjoyed recounting the experiences to Carlie more than the actual experiences themselves. Her big sister would sit and listen open-mouthed, the tip of her juicy pink tongue on show, her rosebud lips pursed in delight or arousal.

It was around this time that the girls’ began to wonder more about each other’s bodies. One night, Carlie suggested that they masturbate in front of each other, to see what turned them both on. Marisa was a little dubious about this, but also wildly excited. In fact, as soon as Carlie had suggested it, Marisa felt her slick pussy lips rubbing together in eager anticipation. Carlie declared that there was only one rule: they had to do it totally naked, so they could both get a good view of everything.

Side-by-side in Carlie’s single bed, lying so close their sides were touching, they began to remove their nighties and knickers. Marisa glanced nervously over to Ebonie — fast asleep, head lolling, mouth wide open, blissfully oblivious.

By the glow of the lamp by Carlie’s bed, they both examined each other’s bodies thoroughly before starting to masturbate. Marisa thought Carlie had a fascinatingly beautiful body. Her breasts were surprisingly full and curvy, the nipples puckering in the cool air. Carlie’s body had a silky shimmery sheen to it that was most inviting. Marisa could smell the older girl’s sweet skin and desire from where she was.

As Carlie opened her thighs slightly, Marisa’s attention zeroed in on the lush pubic thatch in front of her, its whorl of sandy-brown hair, then the pouting lips, the clitoris just peeking from the top. Marisa felt a jolt of lust course through her sex before she even realised it, and this both frightened and excited her in equal measure. Wasn’t it wrong to be excited by the sight of your sister’s vagina? Marisa decided that she didn’t care. Hell, it was normal to be curious, and besides, they weren’t doing anything really wrong, were they? After all, she was curious to see if what she was doing was the proper way to masturbate… and who better to experiment with than her trusted friend, sister and confidante?

Slowly and nervously, but with growing excitement, Marisa opened the slick flesh of her vagina, feeling the moisture already coat her fingers. Her eyes were focused entirely on Carlie’s pussy. Copying her younger sister, Carlie parted the flesh of her sex, giving Marisa a clear view of her girlish secrets.

Marisa could see the slickness, smell the desire of her older sibling. Wild lust coursed through her body in manic jolts as Carlie began to slide a finger up and down the whole length of her slit, trailing her juices up to her hard, prominent little clitoris. Marisa watched in fascination as Carlie ran her finger lightly around the opening, dipping it into her body just slightly before travelling back up to the clit, then running it back down again.

Marisa wondered if this was all Carlie did. If so, how on earth did she ever come? It would take Marisa hours to bring herself off like that. She had begun to masturbate, too — her finger jerked in rapid circular motions over the whole area of her clit, round and round in a dizzying but totally satisfying manner. This was how she always brought herself off; Marisa had explored her own body enough to know exactly what turned her on. Her finger was wet and sliding about, losing traction on her clit. Marisa could hear the sounds of wetness, the little slapping sounds of her rapidly working finger, but she didn’t care. She was awash with desire, and she realised that watching Carlie getting herself off was utterly thrilling.

Carlie began to pick up the pace of her fingering. Slick flesh shining, she slid her long index finger all the way up inside her juicy softness, while her thumb began to jerk spasmodically on her little button.

Marisa thought to herself that she had to try that — it looked absolutely delicious! As Carlie’s finger slid in and out of her pussy, Marisa watched the glistening juices on it, shining in the lamplight, getting wetter with each stroke. She looks so hot, so gorgeous. Marisa felt a flood of desire leak from her pussy, and her own finger slipped down to play with her virginal opening.

Gently prodding, Marisa knew that she was very, very close to coming. Her finger returned to her clit, and she began to rub furiously, fingers sliding all over the wet flesh, clit so hard and engorged that she thought it might burst. Carlie had begun to moan softly, and this spurred Marisa on even more.

Carlie’s legs were jerking spasmodically as she tensed her calf muscles in readiness for the explosion. Her hips jerked up towards her pumping hand — the finger probing her pussy went into overload, thrusting in and out, in and out, forceful and frenzied.

Marisa felt an orgasm approaching; her nipples began to tingle and throb, and her free hand went out to pinch at them absently. Her pussy began to throb dizzily — slowly and rhythmically at first, then faster and faster, until it descended on her — the biggest climax of her life so far.

She looked over at Carlie, who was moaning in the throes of her own delight, and she was both shocked and aroused beyond endurance to see Carlie’s free hand reach out and prod a finger into her bottom hole.

This was too much for Marisa. “Carlie, I’m coming,” she whispered, feeling the pulse beat burst anew upon her, her pussy throbbing violently, her empty opening sucking hungrily at nothing.

Carlie hissed, “Me too!” through gritted teeth, then jerked spasmodically — her whole body twitching, muscles tensing, then she was suddenly still and limp.

Marisa lay still for a long moment, feeling the last throes of her intense orgasm dying away. Her body felt slick with sweat and heated to almost a burning point. She removed her fingers from her pussy and brought them up to her face to smell them, finding she was excited by this action, and hoping that Carlie was watching her.

She was. Carlie had turned her head toward her sister on the pillow and was gazing at Marisa. The seriousness in Carlie’s eyes was shocking to the younger girl. Her slightly plump cheeks were flushed and her blue eyes glistened, and Marisa thought that she had never looked as beautiful as she did at this moment. Her brown hair swirled around her head in silky swathes, and Marisa felt an intensely powerful desire to reach out and brush it away from Carlie’s face.

But Marisa carefully restrained herself, worried that what she felt for her sister was wrong, frightened that this strange desire would only increase as time went by until they both ended up doing something they regretted. Distracted, Marisa absently began to suck her wet fingers.

Then, when Carlie gently removed those fingers from Marisa’s mouth and took her hand, Marisa was shocked, but didn’t want to move. Carlie pulled her sister’s body into her own, and Marisa delighted in the feel of Carlie’s slick and warm flesh against hers, breast to breast, pubes tickling pubes.

And when Carlie pulled Marisa’s face towards hers and kissed her full on the mouth, Marisa wasn’t sure she could make her stop — or if she even wanted her to…

Continue on to Part Two

Jeannie and the Bottle, Chapter 1

  • Posted on June 22, 2017 at 12:11 pm

By Amanda Lynn

For Cheryl and Lisa

Author’s Note: After reading Chapter 76 of Cheryl Taggert’s “I was the Daughter of a Porn Star,” I posted a comment about an encounter with a girl who delivered wine to my hotel room, similar to that of the fictional Cheryl and Lisa in said chapter. Cheryl’s response to my comment was an invitation for me to compose a story for Juicy Secrets about that encounter.

Thus, “Jeannie and the Bottle” was born. Of course, I have embellished considerably to make this story interesting. If I hadn’t, it would only be about five paragraphs in length. But let’s be clear — I do not know Cheryl or her wife Lisa. I do not know their real names, nor where they live. Except for one small part which I will address at the very end, the following is a work of fiction.

Sitting in a booth of the small café, Amanda looked out the window and watched the traffic and pedestrians go by, then stirred her coffee again — an act which was pointless since she took her coffee black. She fidgeted in her seat and checked her phone for the umpteenth time.

Amanda was waiting to meet Cheryl, one of three owners of a website that published erotic tales of lesbian love. She had read all of Cheryl’s stories, enjoying them immensely. It wasn’t uncommon for Amanda to make herself come while reading them. The stories written by Cheryl’s partners, established authors in their own right, were equally stimulating. Amanda had submitted a few stories of her own to the site and had them published. This was always done through email, as was the correspondence between Amanda and her editor.

Life, however, sometimes throws a curveball. Amanda had been reading an opus Cheryl had written and published. At the end of one particular chapter, Amanda posted a comment on the situation the heroine and her lover found themselves in. That situation was similar to something she’d once experienced at a hotel when she ordered a bottle of wine to be delivered to her room. Cheryl had replied to Amanda’s comment inviting her to write a fictional story based on the experience. Amanda had seriously thought about doing just that. And that’s where the curveball comes in.

As part of Amanda’s job, she sometimes takes business trips to various locales in North America. On one trip that was coming up, the flight had a stopover in a US city where she would change planes before continuing to her final destination. This was not an unusual occurrence. However, Amanda had noticed to her chagrin, this particular stop was eight hours long. Amanda was certain the clerk who booked her travel had screwed up. But it was a Saturday morning when Amanda noticed the error, meaning she would have to wait until Monday to have it fixed, if it could be at all.

Later that same day, Saturday evening, Amanda received an email from Cheryl with some editorial comments on the most recent story Amanda had submitted for publishing. While replying to the email, Amanda mentioned in passing the administrative screw-up and the city she would be spending her useless eight hours in.

The next morning, Amanda found an email waiting for her with an attractive proposition from Cheryl. As luck (and curveballs) would have it, the city where Amanda would be changing planes was Cheryl’s hometown. Cheryl wondered if Amanda would like to meet her and her spouse, Lisa, for coffee during the layover. She then went on to ask if Amanda would be interested in collaborating on a story.

Cheryl proposed that during their meeting Amanda could tell the tale of her experience at the hotel with the girl who’d delivered the wine, and then Cheryl would write a story based on what Amanda told her. Of course, they would confer during the ensuing writing process, and would both be credited as authors when the story was published.

Amanda had been thrilled by the idea and quickly agreed to the collaboration. The chance to meet both Cheryl and Lisa was an added bonus.

Her phone buzzed. Amanda looked at the screen and saw a text from Cheryl. It said they’d been delayed by road work, but expected to arrive in five minutes or so. Amanda felt the butterflies churn in her stomach. She was as nervous as a schoolgirl on her first date. When the little bell on the café door chimed, Amanda looked in the direction of the sound and instantly recognized Cheryl from the photo she had sent earlier that day. Amanda waved as she called out to them.

Cheryl smiled and made her way over to Amanda, followed closely by Lisa. Amanda stood and held out her hand, Cheryl ignored the gesture and instead wrapped her arms around Amanda, giving her a hug.

“I’m so glad we finally get to meet,” Cheryl said as she let go.

“As am I,” Amanda replied, a huge grin on her face.

“This, of course, is my wife, Lisa.”

“It’s so nice to meet you, Lisa,” Amanda said while shaking her hand, thinking how beautiful the two women were and what a lovely couple they made.

“Shall we sit?” Amanda suggested, motioning toward the booth.

Amanda sat down behind her coffee as Lisa sat on the opposite side and slid over, making room for Cheryl to sit beside her. The waitress approached, and both Cheryl and Lisa asked for coffee. Cheryl pulled a small digital recorder out of her purse and placed it on the table.

“Did you have any problems finding this place?” Cheryl asked.

“Not at all. The cabbie knew exactly where it was.”

“Not surprising,” Lisa said. “It’s a favorite lunch spot during the week.”

Cheryl nodded in agreement. “So, what I was thinking, Amanda, was I could send you each chapter as I complete it for you to read. Then you could send it back to me with any changes, corrections, or comments you might have.”

“Sure, that sounds great,” said Amanda, then quickly added, “This is so exciting, Cheryl. I’ve enjoyed all your stories so much, and now I actually get to work with you!”

When Amanda realized that she was almost bouncing in the booth, her smile beaming, she felt the heat in her face grow. “Listen to me, I sound like a teenage groupie. Sorry…” she mumbled, looking down and stirring her coffee again.

Both Cheryl and Lisa laughed at this.

“Don’t worry about it, hon,” said Cheryl. “You’d be surprised at some of the fan mail I get. I’m really very honored that you and other readers enjoy my stories so much. So, thank you.”

The waitress arrived with two cups and a coffee pot on a tray. She placed the tray on the table and set the cups down in front of Cheryl and Lisa and filled them, then topped up Amanda’s. After the waitress confirmed that they didn’t require anything else, she left. The three chatted a while longer, enjoying their coffee.

After a few minutes Cheryl keyed the red button on the recorder. “Shall we get started then?”

“Sure,” said Amanda, taking a sip of her coffee. “It was 2012, and I was heading to Ottawa for a seminar…”

*********

The WestJet flight touched down at Ottawa International Airport right on schedule. It had been a short flight from Halifax, just two hours and ten minutes. Since the military was paying for my trip, they had booked an Economy Class ticket. I, therefore, paid for an upgrade to Plus Class out of my own pocket. The extra legroom and other perks that came with it were well worth the extra cost, even for such a short trip.

I looked out the small window of the Boeing 737 as we taxied to the terminal. The grounds around the runways and taxiways were covered in a couple of inches of snow, not surprising for mid-December in Canada. While the flight attendant was making the usual announcement about remaining seated until the aircraft came to a complete stop in front of the terminal building, people were already standing to pull their belongings from the overhead bins.

Laughing to myself, I shook my head at their, well, stupidity, for lack of a better word. Why were people always in such a rush to get off the plane? What was equally confounding was why they seemed to be in just as much of a hurry to get on the plane, even though it was boarded by row.

Once the aircraft did stop, I pulled my canvas shoulder bag from under my seat, making sure I’d placed my iPad in it, then patiently waited for the cabin door to open. I looked over my shoulder, and sure enough, passengers were standing in the aisle, chomping at the bit like a bunch of thoroughbreds eager for the starting bell. When I saw Marie, the flight attendant, move to grip the door handle, I stood up and waited for the go-ahead.

I had been watching her discreetly throughout the flight. Marie was a very attractive woman, probably in her late thirties. Her ginger hair was braided into a long ponytail, and her WestJet uniform hugged her body just enough as to compliment her curves.

Earlier in the flight, when she’d served me a drink and a snack, I took the opportunity while she was bent over to glance at her appealing cleavage. She smiled and winked when I looked back up into her blue eyes.

For the rest of the flight, Marie deliberately made eye contact with me whenever she could. At one point she knelt by my seat and asked if there was anything I wanted. Since no one could see me, and being quite forward, I placed a hand on her knee and slid it slowly up her thigh as I whispered in her ear, “I want you.”

I leaned back, smiling, my hand still on her leg. Marie put her hand firmly over mine. I was half expecting her to push it away and chastise me. Instead, she drew my fingers farther up her thigh until they were stopped by her tight skirt. She smiled at me, her face turning a shade of pink, and asked how long I was going to be in the Ottawa area. After I explained that I would be in town until the following Saturday, Marie stood and moved to the forward part of the cabin where the galley was located.

The pretty redhead was out of sight for just a few moments before coming back to my seat. With a wink, she handed me a blue plastic bag that had a piece of paper attached to it with tape, then walked away to attend to other passengers.

I unfolded the note and read what was written on it:

Call me Wednesday afternoon, after 3 PM. Here is something to remember me by. I’m sure you wanted to touch them earlier. I know I wanted you to!!!

She had left her phone number, and also had kissed the note as was evident by the alluring red lipstick prints.

I opened the plastic bag and looked inside. To my surprise, I saw a pair of lacy red panties. I reached in and felt the crotch. Sure, enough the garment was damp. I pinched the wet part of the panties to get some of the moisture on my fingertips, then removed my hand and sniffed. Her scent was there, and it was luscious. I could feel myself getting aroused. The realization that the woman was now walking around through the aircraft without wearing panties served to turn me on even more.

As I deplaned, I thanked Marie for a great flight while saying I would see her again soon. She blushed as her colleague looked at her questioningly. Then I made my way to the baggage area, collected my suitcase, and left the terminal.

It was only a few degrees below freezing, but the wind chill made it feel much colder. I was glad I’d decided to wear my winter jacket. Back home the temperature was still a balmy 40 degrees. The shuttle bus for my hotel soon arrived, and I boarded it for the short ride.

When the bus stopped and the doors hissed open, I exited and made my way through the main entrance. The palatial lobby of the hotel was ornate and brightly lit. The floor was covered in marble and the walls in a beautiful wood panel trimmed with gold. Off to one side stood a tall, beautifully decorated Christmas tree. There were comfortable armchairs and a fireplace close by for guests to enjoy. The air was filled with the soft sounds of classic Christmas carols. I found myself humming along with them as I checked in at the reception desk. I was given a keycard, then proceeded to the elevators.

My room was spacious, and the decor gave the impression of elegance. A queen bed sat in the center of the room. Two armchairs flanked a small circular table that was positioned in front a large window which looked out over the city, offering a view of Parliament Hill. There was a desk with a leather high back chair, mini fridge, and a widescreen LED television. A dresser sat under the TV with a wardrobe off to the side.

I unpacked my suitcase and put my civilian clothes in the drawers of the dresser, then hung my uniforms in the closet along with my coat. Needing a shower, I began stripping off my clothes. When I noticed the blue plastic item poking out of my shoulder bag, which I’d tossed on the bed as I arrived, I retrieved it and took out the panties Marie had given me. I held them over my face and inhaled deeply, enjoying the lingering aroma of the sexy redhead.

The scent renewed my earlier arousal, and I breathed a soft sigh as I headed into the bathroom, leaving the panties on the bed. The shower was a walk-in type with a small bench seat and handheld shower wand. The device had a variety of settings, everything from a gentle mist up to hard pulsing jets.

“I’ll bet the inventor was a woman who loved to masturbate,” I murmured to myself, chuckling at the thought. I was sure I’d be making good use of that massaging shower head during my stay.

Then I turned and looked at the mirror over the sink. It was huge and went from counter to ceiling and wall to wall. An entire squad of narcissistic cheerleaders could do their makeup at the same time without any need to jostle for position.

For a few moments I admired my reflection, running my hands up and down the sides of my torso. I stay quite fit. Of course, being in the military makes that a necessity. My chestnut brown hair hangs loose, touching my shoulders. My 34B breasts are firm and capped with pink nipples. My belly is flat and toned with just a hint of a six-pack. My hips, a little wider than my waist, bracket a neatly trimmed triangle above my pussy. My legs are long and strong and finish off my 5-foot-7 frame. For a woman in her late forties, I guess I am still kind of hot.

Looking closer at the reflection of my pussy, I noticed the glistening of the lips. I put my hand on my mound and pushed my finger through the folds. I breathed a little gasp as I brushed against my clit. I was wet. I took my hand away and licked the juices from my finger. Then I turned around and opened the taps on the shower. When I was happy with the water temperature, I grabbed the bottle of body wash and stepped in. The warm water felt nice, and I stood there for a minute as the spray poured over my head and down my body.

I had already washed my hair that morning, so I forewent the shampoo and squeezed the bottle of body wash, squirting the soap onto my hand. I set the bottle down on the ledge and slathered myself. I moved my hands over my shoulders and arms, across my belly and down over my legs. Bringing my hands back up I rubbed my tits. It felt good touching myself, little tingles of excitement chasing through me. I squeezed the fleshy globes and pinched at the nipples. I moaned. Spreading my legs a bit, I pushed my hand down over my belly and onto my pussy. I palmed myself, rubbing the heel of my hand over my clit.

I curled my middle finger and played with my opening. I groaned loudly, enjoying the sensations. I pushed my finger into my pussy and slowly fingered myself. The feeling of pressure building inside me grew. I took my hand away from my pussy and waited for a few seconds, not wanting to rush.

When I was ready, I put my middle and index finger onto my throbbing clit and rubbed it. Lightning shot through me, and I jerked at the feeling. I moved my fingers down through my wet folds and into my pussy, pushing my fingers in as far as I could and slowly fucked myself. It felt wonderful. I continued to tease myself this way for several minutes, getting close, right to the edge, then backing off.

By then I was breathing hard and my self-control was fading quickly. Pushing my fingers in deeply, I curled them and searched for that special spot. “Ohhh yesss,” I moaned.

Placing my free hand on the wall for support, I fucked my pussy with a renewed vigor. My knees became weak, feeling the approach of a climax. I backed myself to the shower bench and sat. Spreading my legs wide, I pumped my fingers into my pussy harder and faster. I brought my free hand to my clit and rubbed it furiously.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, yes!” I cried out as my orgasm exploded, sending wave after wave of pleasure through my body. I gasped for breath as I clamped my thighs together, trapping my fingers inside my quivering pussy.

I rested for a short time and looked around as my breathing slowed. I spied the hand-held shower head resting in its holder. After a few more moments, I stood up to retrieve it, then sat back down. I turned the ring of the shower head and examined each of the settings. When I found a soft pulsating stream, I leaned back and spread my legs again.

Slowly, carefully, I brought the stream up my inner thigh and onto my pussy. When the water hit my sensitive clit, I jumped. Too intense, I thought to myself. I focused the stream on hitting just above my opening. The feeling was strong, and I twitched and squirmed. A loud moan escaped from me. I place two fingers on my swollen clit and gently rubbed it. That familiar need was building inside me once again, and I rocked my hips as I moved the stream up and let it hit my clit. The sensation was almost unbearable, but I held the stream steady.

I was bucking against the stimulation of my hand and the driving water. I groaned as images of Marie played in my mind. “Fuck me!” I yelled. The feeling was surreal. Every nerve was firing. Waves of pleasure raced up and down my spine. My pending orgasm swelled and expanded as if it was a physical entity growing inside me. When it was ready, it forced its way out. I screamed and convulsed, slipping off the bench and landed on the tile floor. If there was any pain, I didn’t notice or care. I stiffened and shook. My scream became strangled in my throat.

“Mother of God,” I whimpered as my muscles began to relax and I curled up on the floor of the shower.

When I could finally breathe again and my heart rate had dropped to normal, I pulled myself up onto the bench with some difficulty, slipping and sliding on the wet tiles. The shower head was laying on the floor, water shooting skyward like a park fountain. After some time I stood, turned off the water and got out of the shower. I put on a complimentary terrycloth robe and made my way to the bed, collapsing on it.

“Holy crap,” I said to the ceiling. “I so needed that.”

I rested on the bed for a while until I felt my stomach growl. Looking over at the clock on the nightstand I saw that the glowing red numbers read 5:23 PM. No wonder I was hungry, I’d had little to eat all day.

After one more long, deep breath, I got up, finished drying my hair, did my face and put on some clothes. I then headed down to the dining room for supper.

Continue on to Chapter 2

Silver Lining, Chapter 1

  • Posted on June 21, 2017 at 12:37 pm

By Cassie

{ This story was originally posted at the now-defunct Sisters in Love }

Justine Holloway sat at her computer terminal and stared, willing herself to smother the helpless anger she felt. It wasn’t working.

“Bastard!” she shouted, the word bursting from her mouth before she’d even had time to think about it. “You bloody bastard!”

Accompanying the shouted swear word, Justine smashed a closed fist against the desktop on which her expensive keyboard and monitor sat. She felt like smashing the screen in front of her, deliberately hitting and destroying the image staring back at her. This time, she restrained herself. But she couldn’t tear her eyes away from the monitor.

The woman in the screen stared back at her and smiled serenely. Justine wanted to talk to her; reach out to the woman. Speak to her, shout at her, hit her. But all the woman could do was gaze into Justine’s eyes and smile at her. Bitch. Utter, utter fucking bitch.

Justine closed her eyes, reached out with her hand and, by feel alone, pressed the button at the bottom of the monitor to blank out the image. The beautiful blonde woman who was on the screen still stared back at her; the afterimage imprinted inside Justine’s eyelids.

In her mind’s eye, Justine didn’t even see David in the picture, even though he was standing right next to the woman; one arm snaked around her slim waist while the other held aloft a large margarita. Cheers! said the image, with David’s smiling face beaming toward the camera. Cheers! Isn’t my bit on the side beautiful?

Justine had known, for some months, that her relationship with David was less than perfect. She knew her own shortcomings were as much to blame as David’s frequent “long evenings at the office,” or his excuses to spend less time with her at the weekends. But she’d assumed that neither of them wanted to give up on three years’ worth of being together. Three years’ worth of moving back and forward between one flat and another. Three years’ of planning weekends away, of dealing with each other’s friends and family. And yes: three years of occasional romance and wanton sex. But now, looking back at those three years with every effort to wipe the gloss away, Justine knew that she was more upset by the lies than she was about losing David.

Truth be told, her feelings and emotions had been in complete turmoil since the day, almost a year ago, when she found out that as a baby, she had been adopted.

How should she have coped with the knowledge that the parents who brought her up were no more than just two wonderful people who had taken in a cuckoo, yet her birth parents were some distant, anonymous pair who had abandoned or rejected her? What were those birth parents like? What character traits did they have that would explain why Justine suddenly flared up in anger, or broke down in passionate sobs? Justine knew that she was a creature of extremes, and neither of her adopted parents had ever shown such traits.

Frantic searches in government and local records, hours upon hours upon hours of surfing on the internet, whole afternoons spent sitting in dusty libraries had told her only three things; her parents were called Walter and Mary Jackson; they were alive twelve years ago and living in Kent, England, and they had a daughter called Amanda. More than this she could not find out.

It was as if Walter and Mary had fallen off the face of the planet — and of the mysterious Amanda, Justine could find no further evidence. Was she herself the girl called Amanda? Or did she have a long-lost sister waiting to be found?

Despite repeated searches, Justine could not tell. And the effort she poured into this took her away from other things. Her work suffered, her friends became marginal acquaintances, and of course, there was David.

So her relationship with David became distant, even though they plastered over the cracks. Damn it all, she thought, sitting with her eyes tightly shut. It was the lies that hurt more than anything else. So when she had found out the David was seeing someone else, it stung, but not as much as she would have thought. When she found out that the other woman was a beautiful socialite with both brains and money, she could have been jealous, but she wasn’t. When she found the e-mails David had been sending this woman, and had recovered the pictures he thought he’d deleted from her computer, she’d been angry, but controllably so. It was realizing how many times he’d lied to her over the last eight months. How he’d deceived her time and time again, that was the thing that hurt.

Justine realized she was crying. She shut her eyes as tightly as she could, trying to squeeze the tears back inside. But they wouldn’t be denied and eventually, deflated, she relaxed her self-will and began to weep. She sat for a long time at the computer desk in her flat and cried for long, long minutes. She sobbed and heaved all the hurt and grief and pain that David had caused her.

And then she stopped. She looked up and saw her reflection in the dark, blank screen of the monitor. Her curly, fiery red hair, usually caught up and tamed in a functional ponytail, was in a mess. Strands of it hung loose down the sides of her face, bobbing up and down gently. Her face was bereft of any make-up, even the spare lipstick and eyeliner she usually wore. Her pale, freckled cheeks looked gaunt, and her stunning green eyes were red-rimmed and angry.

“God, I look a mess!” she said to herself, dabbing at the corners of her eyes to stop them getting too puffy. On impulse, she reached out and turned on the computer screen. She stared for a long moment at the beautiful blonde woman who was about to become the sole object of David’s affection and attention.

“Your funeral, bitch.” she murmured. But she knew that she hardly meant to insult the woman. In fact, the more she thought about it, the more she pitied her. It wouldn’t be long, she felt sure, before David would repeat his antics with someone else.

Justine clicked on her mouse and the image on the screen disappeared. Navigating through her desktop, Justine fired up her internet connection and began to browse. She was moving swiftly from upset, to angry, to abandon. What her best friend, Beth, would call “a ‘fuck-it’ moment”. She clicked onto a number of travel websites, looking for a destination to catch some late-summer sun. One place in particular stood out more than any others. It promised long beaches with a small tourist population. Beautiful scenery, wonderful food and the best European wine.

“Portugal,” Justine said, clicking on the button to book some tickets. What she needed was a break from it all. And that was damn well what she was going to give herself.

*****

[Justine's journal]

The plane is noisy, and hot. There had been a problem with the air conditioning, the pilot had said. Ever so sorry, the stuck-up stewardess had said. Not much we can do about it, the junior steward told us at last. So for two hours we’ve been fanning ourselves with booklets and magazines, drinking iced water and trying to ignore the heat. I tried to sleep, couldn’t, then tried to think about my situation as objectively as I could. Maybe I could patch things up with David? No. It had gone too far. I’d never trust him again. Would I trust anyone, after finding out I had parents who would abandon me at birth??

I have a seat by the window, and watched all of five minutes scenery between breaks in the grey clouds. The Bay of Biscay, stretching out a blue carpet of unbroken blue, lay far below me. I hope that Portugal won’t be cloudy.

*****

The sun, when the plane landed, scorched Justine’s delicate skin with a mid-summer intensity even though it was the beginning of October. The Englishwoman quickly dabbed on some sun cream and took off the long sleeved top she had just put on after getting out of the hot plane. She grumbled at the heat, then checked herself and grumbled at her own bad temper. Just travelling to Portugal hadn’t stopped her anger with David, nor solved whatever other demons were lurking in her mind.

Not having been to Portugal before, and not having one word of the language to her credit, she did what most people would do and went to the information desk in the main terminal.

“Hello. Hola. Do you speak any English?” she asked, her voice exaggerated and slow. The middle-aged, moustachioed man behind the desk smiled woodenly and shrugged.

“Um. I, er, need a hotel to stay in? A hotel?”

“Hotel?”

“Yes, hotel. Can you recommend me a hotel?”

“You at hotel?”

“Yes please. A hotel.”

“Which hotel?”

“Pardon?”

“Which hotel you at?”

Justine felt a headache coming on. “I would like a hotel. To stay in. Can you help me?”

“Help me?”

Justine sighed. “You need help,” she muttered. She fumbled around in her large handbag for the battered old 1950′s Portuguese phrase book she picked up at her local charity shop. It was at that point that the moustachioed man smiled at her again and walked away.

“Wait! No, don’t go. I’ve got a book. I-”

“Can I assist you?”

Justine turned at the voice. It was low, but distinctly female, with a very cultured, clipped accent that only just gave it away as coming from a foreigner. Standing to the left of where the moustachioed man was, closing a panel door behind her, was a tall, smart and very attractive woman.

“Oh, thank goodness!” Justine said, putting the book down by the table top. “I thought I wasn’t going to get anywhere.”

The woman smiled, dark red lipstick stretching across her full lips to make a slightly sardonic look. She had short blonde hair, tied up in a strict bob, and long, slender fingers unadorned with rings. Justine thought there was something ever so slightly masculine about the woman, but couldn’t pinpoint it on such an attractive frame.

“José can help with lots of things, mainly electrical problems… but his English isn’t so good.”

Justine felt her cheeks begin to redden in sympathy with her hair. She had just been trying to negotiate with one of the maintenance crew. “Oh gosh. I feel really silly!” she said.

The blonde woman shook her head slightly, indicating it was nothing. “You were looking for a hotel, perhaps?”

“Yes, please. I’ve just come out for a week at the last minute, and haven’t booked anywhere.”

The blonde woman tapped lightly at an unseen computer keyboard beneath the desk and checked the monitor in front of her. “You’re in luck,” she said. “Three weeks ago I’d have struggled to get you a spare bed in the YWCA.”

Justine barked a laugh. She felt the stress and tension begin to slip from her shoulders. The blonde woman carried on tapping at her keyboard for a few moments, then looked up.

“Okay,” she said, “there’s a couple of places with decent rooms available. What’s your price range?”

“Um, something more than budget, but less than presidential suite.”

The blonde woman smiled again, probably having heard that line more than a few times in the past, and looked back at her monitor. “Are you travelling alone?”

“Oh, yes. Most definitely.” Justine couldn’t help the acid in her own comment.

The woman looked up at Justine, locking eyes with her for the briefest of moments, and smiled crookedly. “Shame,” she said, returning her gaze to the monitor in an instant.

With a start, Justine realized what the woman had just said. Was she coming on to me? Oh my God, that woman was coming on to me! Justine shelved that thought, wondering why she was more flattered than concerned.

“There’s the Alsacon,” the blonde woman said. “It’s a very nice place, with good value rooms, but it’s a bit out of the way of the beaches. There’s the Pino Sol, which is close to the main town. It gets pretty noisy at night, but is close to all the main bars, etc. Or there’s the Puerta Riggio; a much bigger hotel with a large pool and lots of in-house facilities.”

Justine bit her lower lip, thinking. “Which one would you go for?”

The blonde woman raised an eyebrow. “If it were me, I’d go for the Pino Sol, but only because my favourite bar is very close to there.”

“What’s it called, this bar?”

“The—the Columbus,” said the blonde woman, momentarily flustered by the question.

“Pino Sol it is, then,” said Justine, brightly. “I’ve come here to get away from the humdrum, so a little noise and life would be good.”

The blonde woman smiled again and made some more delicate tapping on the keyboard. Within a few moments, she printed out a receipt and took Justine’s card, her manicured finger brushing against Justine’s.

She’s definitely coming on to me! Justine thought, giggling inside. For the first time in weeks, she actually felt butterflies in her tummy. God, I need for this break to be fun, she thought.

The blonde woman finished her admin, and returned Justine’s credit card, then leaned across the desk a little, pushing a brochure toward the Englishwoman. She turned a few pages and indicated toward a small map of the town.

“It’s here, by the main strip of shops, which is handy by day, and the bars along this street,” she said, tracing her painted fingernail along a small town map. “The hotel has a small pool, but is close enough to the beach so most people use that instead. They have a restaurant, but there are many places nearby that serve good food. I think you’ll like it.”

“Thanks.” Justine put the papers into her bag, along with the battered old Portuguese phrase book. “Maybe I’ll see you at the Columbus bar then,” she added, smiling.

“Maybe,” smiled the blonde woman. She held out her hand. “I’m Rosa.”

Justine took her hand and shook it, noting that it was a strange kind of masculine way to end a meeting. Rosa’s fingers were soft, and a little longer than Justine’s, and the blonde woman squeezed Justine’s hand just a little bit before breaking off. Not for the first time, she was a little shocked, but kind of liked the feeling.

“Bye,” she said, smiling for the last time. She was sure she saw Rosa wink back at her.

Justine, buoyed now by a much better mood, walked out toward the main doors to catch a cab, passing Maintenance Mario on the way. “Goodbye!” she called to him, waving.

He looked up, puzzled, raised a hand and probably wondered why all the strange foreigners picked on him.

*****

The Pino Sol was not, it had to be said, the finest hotel in the world. Nor in Portugal. Nor in town.

In fact, Justine reflected, looking at the peeling paint on her bedroom wall, it probably ranks in the lower quarter of local hotels. The shower looked like it needed replacing, and the TV was a very old model, but the sheets were clean and it was, as Rosa had indicated, close enough to the main strip where all the clubs and restaurants were.

Justine, her good mood slightly deflated, unpacked her things and sat down on her bed to collect her thoughts. Shopping or beach? Walk about or catch up on her sleep?

In the end, she decided to head down to the hotel pool, small though it was, and chill out there for a while. It was late afternoon, and although the sun was still blazing in a clear blue sky, it had lost its intensity from the day, and Justine thought it was an ideal time to start working on the beginnings of a tan for her pale, creamy skin.

She changed into a bikini David had bought for her last year; a simple yellow outfit with gold edging that she thought she looked okay in. It showed off her legs (which she considered her best asset, given the pounding she gave them on the street during her daily jogs), and the bikini top pushed up and together her smallish breasts, giving her a slight cleavage to be proud of. She wrapped a sarong around her waist, picked up her towel, book, sun cream and water bottle, and set off for the pool.

It was quiet down by the pool. An older couple were snoring quietly on sun loungers, and a dark-haired girl was sitting on another lounger, shaded by a large parasol, working on a laptop computer. She was slim, but with a bigger bust than Justine’s, wearing a small white vest top and black shorts, cut high to her hip. Dark sunglasses hid her eyes and her dark hair fell around the young woman’s face.

Justine set up her towel on a sun lounger a few feet away from the brunette, and started to cover her skin with the protective cream. When she had done enough, she lay back and picked up her book. She started feeling drowsy almost straight away, and put the book down, turned over and lay on her tummy. Reaching behind, she unclasped her bikini top and let the straps fall to her sides. She rested her head sideways, toward the older couple snoring on their loungers. She was just thinking about what to do for dinner when sleep stole up and claimed her for its own.

She woke up, sometime later, with the sun dipping down toward the rooftops of the houses nearby, and heard a noise behind her. She twisted on the lounger and saw that the brunette had gone, replaced with a nervous young man who was fiddling with the brunette’s laptop.

Justine squinted, rousing herself from her slumber, and the man saw her. He smiled nervously and said a few words in Portuguese. Justine, aware of how close he was, re-clasped her bikini top and sat up. At this movement, the man struggled furiously with a CD or DVD tray on the side of the laptop.

“Hey, is that yours?” Justine said.

The man, sensing a problem, got up from the lounger, checked over his left and right shoulders, smiled at Justine, and wandered off in a hurry. Presently, the brunette came back to the lounger and began to frown. She tapped a few keys in irritation, and started looking around her.

“There was a man here a moment ago,” Justine said.

The brunette looked round at her. “Pardon?”

“I said there was a man here a moment ago. A young man. He was fiddling with the DVD tray. I think—oh, sorry. I don’t even know if you speak English.”

“I speak English,” said the brunette. “You said there was a man here?”

“Yes. He was trying to open the DVD tray. He looked a bit nervous.”

The brunette swore in what might have been Portuguese, then sighed.

“I’m sorry,” Justine said, feeling for the woman. “I didn’t know—”

The brunette shook her head and offered Justine a conciliatory smile. “It’s not you,” she said. “Thank you for looking out for it. I suspect he was after the stuff on my hard drive.”

“Oh.” Justine ran out of words. The brunette closed her laptop lid and looked round, smiling anew. Another pretty girl, thought Justine.

“Are you staying here at the hotel?” asked the brunette.

“Yes. I only got here this afternoon.”

Justine sat up and, remembering the blonde woman at the airport, held out her hand. “I’m Justine.”

The brunette barked a small laugh and reached out to take Justine’s hand. “Very formal!” she said, slipping her fingers against the white skin of the Englishwoman. “My name’s Jan.”

“Are you on holiday too?” asked Justine. Jan smiled a slightly crooked smile. Her sunglasses still hid most of her features.

“Kind of,” she said. “I’m Portuguese, but used the late sun to get away for a while.”

“Just needed a break?”

“Yeah. I run a website and never have enough time to keep it up to speed, so I decided to get away for a while.”

Justine picked up her water bottle and took a swig. “Tell me about it. I know a webmaster at work who is always – always – complaining about not having enough time. What kind of website is it?”

Jan smiled, almost shyly, and looked at Justine through her sunglasses. “It’s a — it’s a kind of self-help group for women. It — um. Actually, that’s not explaining it very well. It’s a forum, basically, for women to share ideas, stories and testimonials. It’s — it’s –”

“Complicated?”

Jan laughed again. “Yes, complicated! Where are you from?”

“Brighton, in England. They call it ‘Little London’ over there because it’s so similar to the capital.”

“I’ve heard of it. I have a webpal who comes from there, I think. It has the big Indian palace there, yes?”

“That’s it!” said Justine, smiling. “The Brighton Pavilion. Awful place. Full of tourists.” The two women saw the unintended joke in that at the same time, and laughed.

They talked for a while, until the sky darkened a little, then Jan said she had to go. She said she’d be out by the pool the next day, if Justine wanted to catch up or go shopping or something.

Justine said goodbye, read some of her book, then went back to her room to get changed. The air was still warm, so she changed into shorts and a vest top like Jan, then went out looking first for some food, and then to get a drink. Without thinking about it, she had the Columbus bar in her mind.

*****

It was a hot and noisy bar, everything Justine expected she would find at a Mediterranean resort packed with young tourists. The floor was hardwood, but slicked with so much spilled drink she had to keep steady on her high-heeled sandals.

After retiring back to her modest room from the pool, Justine had changed into a new little red summer dress she had bought just the other day. It was cut high on her right leg, slanted so that the hem drew down to her mid thigh on her left. It was a simple design, with elegant straps over her shoulders and a Lycra underbodice that kept her breasts in place without the need for a bra. Cool, a little stylish and definitely club-wear. She’d decided against any fancy hair or make-up arrangement, just tying her hair back in a ponytail whilst applying her best lip-lock red lipstick and a little mascara. After all, she wasn’t an eighteen-year old on the pull anymore, right?

Justine reached the bar and caught the eye of the young barman serving the drinks. He gave her a quick, professional nod of acknowledgement. “Sol?” he asked, reaching behind him to the refrigerator stocked with the favourite gold coloured lager.

Until that moment, Justine was going to order her usual tipple; a vodka and orange but, hearing the barman say the word, she suddenly felt a flash or Latin impetuousness and nodded, smiling. “Sol, gracias,” she added.

The barman threw her a tired smile. “There you go,” he said, handing her the bottle, a thin slice of lime corked into the top of it. Justine handed him 5 euros and he didn’t return any change. She was about to question it when she had second thoughts and decided that fighting over the price of a drink wasn’t the first thing she wanted to do that evening. She’d just have to pace herself.

She turned round to the main bar area, and scanned the beautiful young things dancing, talking, shouting and snogging shamelessly. It reminded her exactly of a trip she went on five years ago to Ibiza; lots and lots of young people, mainly tourists, getting as drunk as they could, as quick as they could. It brought back a lot of memories for Justine, but somehow she felt that she’d moved on as a person since then.

She finished her drink thinking about this, and ordered another one. Again the barman gave her a chilled Sol, and again she gave him a 5 Euro note without change. She drank that one too, slowly feeling the effect of the alcohol begin to loosen her senses, and inhibitions. She finished her drink, then got up to dance to some retro 1980′s track the DJ was playing.

She stayed out on the dance floor for a while, losing herself to the music and the crush of the people dancing around her. When, eventually, she went back to the bar, the lazy-eye barman pulled out another bottle of Sol and handed it to her. Somewhat flustered, Justin went to open the tiny handbag slung securely over her shoulder when the barman held out a hand.

“No, no,” he said. “Is from your friend.”

Justine frowned, then looked over to where the barman was now pointing. Her gaze drifted, then locked onto the eyes of Rosa, the woman from the airport. Her face lit up with the recognition of a recent friend.

“Rosa!” she waved. The blonde raised her hand in reply, then beckoned Justine over. After grabbing her drink, Justine pushed her way over to the other woman.

“Is good, no?” said Rosa, smiling sardonically as the Englishwoman made her way next to her. They kissed on the cheek and Justine felt that tingle of something — something almost naughty about being so forward with someone. The two women looked one another up and down.

Despite the heat of the evening, Rosa was wearing a body-hugging mini-dress, in soft lime green with a shoulder-less top. She had on open-toed high heel sandals like Justine, and looked fabulous. Justine told her so. Rosa beamed at her and reached out, brushing the side of her hand against Justine’s hair.

“You too, I think!” she shouted as the music boomed around them. The two women beamed at each other, then Rosa beckoned Justine closer.

“Would you like to dance?” she shouted, into Justine’s ear. Justine nodded, and the two women put their bottles down and headed off to the main dance floor.

The 80′s tracks were still booming, and Justine felt herself letting go to the music; reacting to the beat and rhythm of the tunes. She and Rosa danced around each other for some time and, at the end of one song when Rosa slipped her arm around Justine’s waist, the Englishwoman didn’t mind. She didn’t mind at all.

Another spell dancing, and two Sols each later, and Justine was perfectly happy with the way Rosa’s manicured, painted fingers had slipped from her waist to rest across the curve of Justine’s ass. Justine caught herself smiling and staring into the eyes of the attractive Portuguese woman, and it came almost as a relief when Rosa leaned forward and brushed her lips against Justine’s lips, returned there and kissed her more deliberately.

Justine’s heart was racing. She had only ever kissed one girl before; at a party in university where she and Amy McDonald had dressed up as identical twins for Amy’s fancy dress party. The two had got drunk and, in front of a whole bunch of Uni friends, snogged as a dare for the boys.

But this time was no dare, and as Justine welcomed Rosa’s tongue into her mouth, and felt Rosa’s hand tighten its grip on her ass cheek, Justine felt her resolve drift away.

They kissed for a long time, then Rosa placed her lips beside Justine’s ear and shouted in a loud whisper;

“Is too hot. Want to grab some air?”

Justine nodded, shivering despite the heat as Rosa took the opportunity to nibble Justine’s ear.

They walked out, hand in hand, and when they spilled out into the street, the cool night air hit Justine almost immediately.

“Whooo,” she said, steadying herself on her feet. Rosa laughed and caught her up in a clinch.

“Too much Sol, yes?”

Justine giggled, then closed her eyes in the hope to stop the world spinning. She felt Rosa’s lips against her neck and suddenly felt a wave of eroticism wash through her.

“Is too cold?” said Rosa, whispering into Justine’s ear. “You want to go somewhere else?”

Justine grinned, thinking that she wouldn’t mind taking Rosa back to her hotel room. As it happened, she didn’t have to.

*****

When Justine woke up the next morning, in a different bed in an unfamiliar room with her head beginning to beat out a tattoo of revenge inside her skull, she wondered briefly who the fuck the other woman in bed with her was.

Justine lay back down for a moment, trying to shake the angry cobwebs from her mind. She felt down her body and wasn’t surprised to find that she was naked. Reaching out gingerly beneath the sheet, she touched the woman beside her and felt the soft warm skin of the woman’s ass. She pulled her hand back, only then realizing that the woman was Rosa, the attendant from the airport, and that she and Rosa had danced and drunk together, then kissed, walked through the streets hand in hand and—

Justine felt the dryness in her mouth. She shifted a little in bed and felt an ache in her groin. Jesus! she thought. It felt like she’d been fucked by an elephant! And her pussy was not the only place her body felt used. She brought her hand up to her left breast and gingerly touched the nipple. It was tender, much more so than usual, and reacted to her own touch. What had she been doing? How drunk had she gotten?

She slipped out of bed, away from the woman lying next to her, and carefully stood up. With this last movement she felt the final part of her intimacy call her attention. Justine had only anal sex twice before. It was not an experience she would choose on a regular basis, but both times she’d enjoyed it, despite the discomfort both during and after the sex. Her ass felt just the same as it did after those two times, and Justine felt her face begin to redden at the thought of what debauchery she’d got up to.

She gathered her clothes — strewn carelessly on the floor — and crept out. Mercifully, Rosa was still asleep, and did not wake even when the bedroom door creaked.

Justine dressed herself in the unfamiliar hallway outside, then chose some steps to descend in order to find a way out. She walked down the narrow staircase and saw, with some relief, a front door at the bottom of it. She stepped toward it but was stopped by some movement behind her.

She turned, heart in her mouth, and stared at the tall young man standing bare-chested at the other end of the hall. He had dark hair and dark eyes, and a lean, well-toned figure.

“Don’t look so frightened,” the man said, with a smile. “There are no ghosts here.”

Justine recovered herself a little, but inched closer to the door, just in case.

“‘I’m, er, I’m Justine,” she said, smiling as best she could. The man nodded in reply.

“Ah, so that’s your name. Rosa didn’t even tell me. But then again, she does not always know her girlfriends’ names herself.”

“I’m not sure, I—I mean, I don’t know what you mean,” Justine stammered. The young man grinned.

“She was right, though. You are a pretty one.”

Justine reached for the door handle behind her. “I have to go.”

The door opened, and Justine darted through it to the street beyond.

“Hey!” shouted the man, behind her. “Hey, what do I tell my sister?”

Justine fled down the street, clutching her bag to her chest and trying to breathe normally. What the hell had she done? What the hell had she gotten into? She’d never had sex with a woman before! Never! And now, not only did it feel like she’d been fucked by an access-all-areas elephant, but someone’s brother was involved, too. Had the man who said he was Rosa’s brother had sex with her too?

Justine had no way of knowing. She would never have accused herself of a one-night stand before. She would never have thought she’d had sex with another woman before. But last night seemed to change everything.

She went back to her hotel, trudged up to her room and took a shower. She cleaned and probed her sensitive areas, worried sick. But, on closer examination, she had no cuts, bruises, welts or scratches. If she’d had sex — as she was sure she had, in several intimate places — it was certainly not forced on her.

And that made Justine reconsider. She had come to get away from her old life. To get away from the humdrum, and the shit of a relationship turned sour. So was this her liberation? Was this a new chapter? Was she now able to abandon herself to guilty pleasure? It seemed so, but despite the shower, Justine felt fuzzy and sore.

She locked her room shut from the inside and went to bed. She slept for another eight hours, and it was late afternoon when she awoke feeling much fresher.

Justine decided to head down to the hotel swimming pool and cool off a little. She took her towel, book and water bottle with her, and made her way down. The poolside was empty when she got there, and the weather was just as hot and sunny as the climate promised. Justine set herself down on one of the hotel loungers and read her book for a while. She’d worn her gold bikini and a sarong, and the warm air began to make her feel drowsy, despite the sleep she’d only just had. She put down her book and lay back on the sun lounger, covering her eyes with her dark sunglasses and dozing.

She came to some time later, as the sun’s rays were dipping below the line of the houses around her. She heard splashing and, for one moment, thought it was the waves of the sea come to tickle her toes. She had been sunbathing once, on the beach in Brighton, and had fallen asleep only for the rising tide to wash over her belongings and soak both them and her. She was quite sensitive to the splashing of water since that time.

But here it was not the sea, but only the water in the hotel swimming pool catching her ear. She sat up, grabbing her water to take a swig. In the pool was another young woman, swimming away from her with a powerful breaststroke movement. Justine watched the other woman reach the end and turn, swimming back toward her. The other woman reached for Justine’s side of the pool and stopped. She bobbed up and down in the water, dipping underneath the warmish waters to cool her brow. She made eye contact with Justine and smiled, folding her forearms over the pool edge to steady herself.

Olá!” she said. “Justine, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” said the Englishwoman. “And you are… Jean?”

“Jan,” corrected the other. She raised an eyebrow to the sky. “It seems this is the time for us to meet, when the sun is going down, isn’t it?”

Justine smiled and nodded. There was something quite friendly and reassuring about Jan. Justine had only met her once, but they seemed to get on, and there was no dangerous sexual frisson between them, unlike the other woman, Rosa. Even thinking about the tall, handsome blonde made Justine feel uncomfortable.

“You will guard my computer for me?” asked Jan, giving a crooked smile and nodding toward a sun-lounger to Justine’s left.

“That’s my job,” Justine replied. “Computer security system.”

Jan laughed and bobbed back down into the water. “Two more laps,” she said, “then I can pretend I’ve done some exercise.”

Jan finished her swim, then climbed out of the pool close to where Justine was lying. Justine watched her emerge dripping out of the water, wearing a stylish one-piece bathing suit. With her dark hair and olive skin, Jan seemed every bit the local girl, and Justine wondered if Jan knew of the places like Columbus, whether she too had succumbed to some wild holiday romance in her own country.

Justine watched out of the corner of her eye as Jan wrapped a towel around her body, dabbing at her hips and torso. She let her eyes wander up and down the dark-haired woman’s form and wondered first if Jan ever gave strangers such cool appraisal. Then Justine caught herself and wondered why she was now checking out other women when, a couple of weeks ago, she would never have entertained the thought, let alone get up to whatever it was she did with Rosa last night.

“Have you had any more problems with your laptop?” Justine asked, once Jan had settled into her own lounger.

Jan looked across and turned toward Justine, smiling a little. “Not so much people as time,” she said, mysteriously. “I find that people are difficult, yes. But time is the thing that is the biggest problem. Too many things, not enough time, right?”

“They used to say that about women; ‘too many women, not enough time’.”

“You said this?”

Justine shook her head. “No, I think it was George Burns, the old actor. I — I wouldn’t know what to think.”

Jan paused for a moment before saying, “Is a bad time for you?”

Justine didn’t answer at first. She was thinking about the whirlwind of the last few days; the revelation of David’s lies, the gnawing problems of her missing birth parents and the mysterious “Amanda” and, of course, the fairly shocking recent memories of being seduced by a lesbian and getting up to some serious sexual play with the woman — which she couldn’t even remember!

Jan, taking this hesitation as a message that she had overstepped the mark, held up a hand. “I am sorry. I didn’t mean to pry.” She turned away from the Englishwoman and reached for her laptop.

“No,” said Justine, “Wait. I—” She faltered again, grappling for the words she wanted to say. Really, she wanted to let it all out; wanted to unburden her troubles just to clear them a little from her mind. But that would be unfair on this poor lady who had just come down to the hotel for a swim. Or maybe Justine should use this as an opportunity to confide in someone. She was hardly going to see this Portuguese lady again after the holiday, right? And Jan didn’t have to listen if she didn’t want to.

“I’ve recently broken up with my boyfriend. Actually, my almost-fiancée,” Justine said, at last. Jan gave her a tight smile and inclined her head. “Is never easy breaking up,” she said, non-committal.

Justine barked a laugh. “To be honest, that was the easy part! I’ve just — I’ve just had a — you know, holiday fling with someone. Here.”

“Already?” Jan asked, eyebrow arched. “Very quick work. You must work in stocks and shares, right?”

Justine laughed, feeling the burden across her shoulders beginning to lift already. “Not just any fling,” said Justine, smiling. The next words from her mouth came almost involuntarily. “One with a woman.”

There was a pause, and Jan gave the Englishwoman a cool look. “Your first time?”

Justine paused, then nodded. “I was so drunk I can’t even remember it!”

“What was she like? This mystery woman?”

“Oh tall, blonde. Short hair. Great, you know—” Justine cupped her breasts for emphasis. Jan held up a hand to her mouth, stifling a giggle.

“I am sorry. I don’t mean to tease. But you must know this is an incredible thing. Your first time — with another woman, right?”

Justine smiled distantly. “Yeah.” The gravity of it still hadn’t really sunk in. She had been thinking all along about whatever unknown sex acts she’d got up to without thinking much about the fact that Rosa was her first girl-girl liaison. Surely that didn’t make her a lesbian now, after one erotic night’s work? Justine’s head could not yet process that thought. Instead, she went on the offensive. It was a cold, business like tactic. But it backfired somewhat.

“Have you had a holiday fling yet?” she asked.

“No,” Jan said, smiling impishly. “But it would not be for the first time with a woman.”

“Not for the fir— Oh.” Justine was taken aback, but only a little. She found she was more intrigued about the prospect of this new friendship with Jan than about the thought of her being a predatory lesbian.

“You have a girlfriend?” she asked the dark Portuguese girl.

Jan went to answer, then stopped. “You have a boyfriend?” she asked in reply.

Justine looked down for a moment. “I, uh—I was engaged, to be married. Until very recently. But my boyfriend was seeing someone else. For quite some time, I think. It’s all a bit complicated.”

“Such is life,” said Jan. “Some things are more complicated than others. And now there is your fling too, right?”

Justine groaned. “Oh, don’t remind me. Things couldn’t get more complicated!”

Jan shifted on her lounger, drawing her tanned legs up to her belly. “You have a sister?”

“A sister?” asked Justine, frowning.

“Yes. Do you have a sister?”

Justine narrowed her eyes. “Wow,” she muttered. “You really know which buttons to press. Uh — I’m not sure. Why do you ask?”

“Because things could be much more complicated than your current situation,” replied Jan, a note of seriousness in her soft voice.

Justine gave her a quizzical look, and Jan seemed to pause for a long moment before answering. She was, perhaps, having similar thoughts to the Englishwoman’s earlier ones: Here is someone who I can speak to quite easily. She is on holiday and I’m unlikely to see her again. Perhaps I can be open with her.

“My work,” continued Jan, shifting again to face Justine more directly, “is more complicated than I suggested.”

Justine wracked her memory for what she could recall Jan had said the other day. Some kind of… self-help website?

“I run a website for women to talk and share about the love they have with other women. A love that — how you say — ‘dare not speak its name’.”

Justine nodded absently. So Jan runs a lesbian website? It certainly didn’t sound very taboo, not in this day and age. “I see,” she said.

Jan smiled crookedly, a stray lock of her dark hair spilling over her right eye and giving her a sultry look. “No, you don’t, I think.”

She paused again before continuing. “You said your love life was complicated, and I asked if you had a sister.”

“Yes, but I don’t see what — Oh.”

Justine and Jan looked at each other for a long while in the deepening Portuguese shadows.

“Do you—” asked Justine, in a small voice, “do you have a… a complicated sister?”

Jan laughed brightly; a soft, pretty laugh that lit up her face. “Si! I have a very complicated sister! But not one whom I consider complicated in that way. But many of the women on my website have sisters, and yes; there is love between them that some would say is wrong.”

“Well, it is wrong,” said Justine, flatly.

Jan arched her eyebrow. “Is it?” she asked. Her gaze bored into Justine’s eyes and the Englishwoman found she could not easily look away. What was this foreign girl saying, that love between two sisters was acceptable? That this kind of incest was okay?

“I mean, I suppose that sometimes sisters can be close, and maybe — maybe when growing up there is some, you know, experimentation or something.” Justine was desperately trying to think of any articles or news stories she had read about this kind of thing. “But that’s kind of normal, I suppose.”

“And other love isn’t?” asked Jan.

“Well — I mean, it’s just wrong!” Justine said, hitting a mental brick wall.

“Okay, let us put it this way. Women are naturally more affectionate. And passionate. And the bond between sisters is a very close one, right?”

“I — well, I suppose,” said Justine.

“Good. So we agree. And sisters can fight and bitch like no others, right? I do with my own sister sometimes!”

“Okaay.”

“So why is it so strange to think that two sisters can express their love, their passion, in sexual ways? If there is no coercion, if there is no rape, and if there is no chance of a genetic mismatch to make children, so what of it is wrong?”

Once again, the two women stared across the short distance between them for a long moment, taking in the quiet rustles of the early Portuguese evening.

“You’re serious?” said the Englishwoman.

Jan nodded. “Yes. I am. The Internet is not just good for news sites and conspiracy sites and pornography. There were many doors opened for people to talk to each other, about even the most taboo of subjects like this one.”

“There are really sisters who sleep with each other?”

“Yes! Not many, I suppose, and for many different reasons, but still they do. And it is not all about rampant sex like in adult films. Sometimes, the people on my website have a very quiet love for their sister, and do nothing more than hug, or kiss.”

“So this site is like one of those social networking websites?”

“Not quite,” said Jan, the twinkle in her eye. “But I have tried to fit as many things in it as I can. There are the testimonials of women brave enough to share their own, true stories. There are others who invent or write fictitious stories. Reviews of books and films that cover the subject of love between sisters. Many things.”

Justine was, admittedly, a little taken aback. Had it been in her own home, on an ordinary day, without the knowledge and hurt of David’s infidelity, she would not have listened to the pretty Portuguese woman. To be honest, she would probably not even listened as much right then had she not been thinking about her memory-blocked antics of the previous night. But she couldn’t deny that she’d changed a little since coming to Portugal.

She had let herself be seduced by another woman — unthinkable! — she had gone back for a one-night stand and felt sore in numerous sexual places — unheard of! — without any proper recollection of her evening, and she may even have slept with the woman’s brother  – unimaginable! So, given that, listening to an ordinary, young and slightly serious young woman talking about her website for women who sleep with their sisters didn’t turn her away. In fact, she felt strangely drawn to the subject.

Justine and Jan talked a little more about the many scenarios Jan had heard of regarding the love between two sisters. They talked until the shadows in the sky filled the air with darkness, and overhead lamps buzzed into life around them.

Jan excused herself after a long while, and Justine went back to her room to shower and change. She decided to go on a more quiet, sober night out that evening. Away from the main strip, finding a bar, maybe, or a restaurant on the seafront.

She only took a quick shower then, wrapped in nothing but a towel, went back to her bed and sat on the edge. She’d meant to go to her wardrobe to look for some clothes to put on, but her head felt fuzzy and a sudden wave of tiredness swept over her. She lay back onto the bed, and then drew herself up to the pillows. She pulled the soft towel open, exposing herself to the cool air of the room, closing her eyes to the feeling of the warm moisture on her skin evaporating into the air. Her red hair spilled out like a corona around her head and, as she trailed a fingernail up and down her bare belly, sleep stole up and claimed her.

*****

Justine was running down a corridor, like the one she remembered from her secondary school days, and she was late. She looked around her, thinking how much the corridor reminded her of her school, then realized that she was wearing her old school uniform again. That drab, dreary pleated tartan skirt. The formless, drab white shirt and the plain white socks and flat court shoes.

She also knew, without checking, that she was wearing a thong; that mildly exciting, mildly naughty piece of underwear that was her only rebellion to the drab uniform. Her hair streamed out behind her; caught fast in a ponytail with a thick band. She had no bag or case in her hand, but she was late and knew she’d be in trouble.

Without rhyme or reason, the corridor changed into the wood from her mind’s eye when she read The Hobbit many, many years earlier. She peered round the bole of a huge tree and looked to see if there were any monsters there. Her heart was pounding, and she was anxious that the other girl behind her didn’t lag. Justine reached down and brushed the hilt of her long dagger, sheathed down the outside of her knee-length calfskin boot. It was there, safe and secure. The hem of her short skirt tugged at the top of her thighs, and Justine felt the tickle of a leaf against her leg.

“Come on!” she hissed, glancing behind her.

The other girl was there, smaller yet similar to Justine, with long straw-blonde hair. It was Pip, Justine’s favourite doll from her childhood. The doll with the long hair and no knickers when Justine had dared to first peek under the skirt the doll wore. But this time, Pip wore a long, pleated skirt like the ones Justine wore at school, and it was slowing her progress in the undergrowth.

“I can’t!” said Pip, and Justine immediately felt somehow annoyed at the tinny voice. But she could not leave her.

“It’s not far now,” she said, as encouragingly as she could.

“I just want to go home!” said Pip. “I just want to go to bed and get cuddled.”

“Too late for that. Look! I can see the cabin!”

And there, through a clearing in the woods, Justine saw the log cabin that she knew was their sanctuary. “Come on!”

She took the now-alive doll by the hand and ran through the trees into the clearing and up to the door of the solid wooden cabin. She flung open the door, pulled Pip through and slammed it shut, ramming the sturdy bolt home. The two girls stood there for a moment, catching their breath. Pip kept whispering, “Thank you! Thank you!”

“That’s okay, Pip,” Justine said, smiling. The two women embraced, Justine grabbing up her living doll in a cuddle like she always used to in bed at night. Strands of fiery red-gold hair spilled and mixed together as the two girls cuddled into each other’s embrace.

“That’s it, now. We’re safe now,” Justine murmured.

Pip looked up at her momentarily; a dreamy smile on her face. “Thank you, ‘Stina,” she said, leaning forward to kiss the other girl lightly. Justine smiled back, suddenly very warm and happy. She felt Pip’s arms around her waist, felt the crush of Pip’s small but perfectly rounded doll-like breasts against her own, and knew that the hug was leading somewhere.

Pip trailed her hands down the small of Justine’s back until the Englishwoman felt them slide down the curve of her buttocks to the edge of the hem on her short skirt. She buried her face into Pip’s neck, tightening her arms around the living doll and breathing in the soft, sweet smell of the girl’s straw hair. She felt Pip’s fingers tug at the hem of her skirt, and lift it up over her buttocks, exposing them and the red thong she wore. Pip’s hands smoothed over Justine’s bare backside, then delved between them, teasing the little bud of skin at Justine’s anus.

“We can’t ever tell Mummy,” said Pip, as she probed her fingers between Justine’s legs.

“Of course not, Pip,” breathed Justine, feeling Pip’s soft fingers explore her most tender regions. “Of course we can’t.”

Pip shifted her head and the two met each other’s lips, kissing. At first their kisses were soft, wisp-like; the tender red skin barely touching. But the nearness of such intimacy gave them a passion neither girl could ignore. Their lips met, and crushed, more passionately and, as the day turned to dark around them, Justine felt that she was losing herself to Pip in the most extraordinary way; reveling in the touch and taste of the doll-girl’s tongue snaking and exploring inside her mouth.

It was so natural. So taboo and yet so natural making love to Pip. Of course they were young. Of course they were both only girls. And of course, Mummy should never know. That would be terrible.

Continue on to Chapter 2

Her Sister, Her Mentor, Chapter 4

  • Posted on June 20, 2017 at 2:01 pm

By Tommy X

By Thursday, Amanda was settling into her new, exciting life of incest with her sister. They would steal kisses and cast sly glances at each other, but there really hadn’t been time to make love since that day in Ms. Garcia’s classroom. And Amanda desperately wanted to continue making love to Kelly.

Amanda woke up every morning with her pussy throbbing and slick with lust. She only managed to sleep every night after giving herself, two, maybe three orgasms. But it wasn’t the same, not without Kelly — who was preoccupied with running the mentorship program and her own schoolwork. Apparently, fucking the chemistry teacher could only get you out of some homework. A certain amount of cursory effort was still required.

Amanda did notice that the female teachers of Silvstead High seemed to watch her more closely and had moved her to the front of the class. Following Kelly’s instructions, she’d started wearing shorter skirts. She was sure these nasty perverted dykes were trying to get a look up her legs and frankly, it excited her. By the end of most days, she was soaked.

That day, after the last bell, Amanda opened her locker to find a small envelope taped to the inside of the door. There was no indication who it was from, or how they were able to get into her locker — just a pale pink envelope with a red heart drawn on the front. She glanced around and leaned into her locker slightly so no one could read over her shoulder. Amanda pulled open the envelope and pulled out the note. A carefully scripted note:

Dearest and loveliest initiate:

I hope this week is going well for you, and that you and your mentor have grown close. By this time, she should have taught you the power of your being and how to wield your sexuality. Now it is time to put it into practice. Tonight there is a party where you will meet, and fuck, your new boyfriend. He will be a starting football player and you and your mentor will make his night.

Love, Codi

Amanda stared at the letter. Jesus, she thought, am I ready for… that?

When Kelly drove them home after school, she made it clear to Amanda that they would be going to the party even if they had to sneak out of the house. They were going to wear their party dresses with nothing underneath, a thought that thrilled Amanda and scared her a little. Kelly also explained that they would both be expected to pleasure Amanda’s new boyfriend. The freshmen girls were always given up to the senior football players. In Kelly’s experience, though, they probably wouldn’t get around to fucking him tonight after all; it was unlikely that a teenage boy could handle two sisters.

But first, they had to convince their mother to let them go out on a school night.

That turned out to be far easier than they had assumed. When they got home, Karen was already getting ready to go out again. “Girls, I’m going out tonight with a friend from work, so do your homework, order a pizza and watch a movie. I won’t be home until late.”

Karen looked amazing in her little black date skirt and her dark blue blouse. If the girls had looked closely, they might have noticed that their mother wasn’t wearing a bra. But there was no way for them to have known that she wasn’t wearing any panties either.

In fact, Karen’s outfit was just for her daughters’ benefit. As soon as she reached her friend’s house, the clothes would come off, she would jump in the hot tub and spend hours enjoying sex with several different women. Karen was already moist in anticipation of a thrilling night of lesbian fun and games — even more so, knowing that that one of the women had promised a “surprise guest” would be attending that night.

The girls bounded upstairs, pretended to do their homework for a while and, after waiting an appropriate amount of time after their mother’s car had driven away, began to change for the party. Amanda and Kelly stripped naked, and unable to control themselves, kissed for a moment before taking out their outfits.

Amanda pulled her favorite dress out of the closet. It was pale blue with a slightly ruffled look, and fell to mid-thigh. She slid it over her head and adjusted it, then admired herself in the mirror, smiling at the thought of going without panties or bra beneath the dress she wore to church on Easter Sunday.

“Hey, Mandy,” Kelly called, “come zip me up.”

Amanda’s breath caught in her throat when she saw her sister. She was in a form-fitting red dress, easily three-quarters the way up her thighs. Every curve of Kelly’s body was perfectly accentuated. Amanda’s hands trembled as she took hold of the zipper tab and slowly drew it up. God, she makes me look like a little girl, Mandy thought.

Kelly turned and smiled at Amanda. “Let’s make sure everything is in order,” the elder sister said, and then slipped her hand up Amanda’s skirt, briefly cupping her bare pussy. “Good,” she purred. “Now, let’s do something about that hair.”

An hour later, the sisters climbed out of the car and made their way toward the entrance to Codi’s house. The party was clearly not a stereotypical movie-inspired teen rager. Music was playing, a few people were milling about, some had red cups with an unknown drink in it. When offered, Kelly politely declined for the both of them, citing the need to be clear-headed for the action later that night.

They milled about, Amanda staying close by her sister as she chatted with various girls. Most of the kids there weren’t part of the secret society, so Amanda wasn’t really sure when or where the evening’s action was taking place.

Soon enough though, Codi came by and tapped Kelly on the shoulder. Kelly turned to Amanda and smiled. “Show time,” she said.

They maneuvered their way into a side room, a study. It was all dark wood paneling, shelves crammed with books, huge desk. Codi closed the door behind her.

Amanda noted the five other freshmen girls and their respective mentors. In addition, there were five senior football players — the stars of the team. Everyone milled around nervously. The football players had grins on their faces you couldn’t wipe off. This ceremony was the stuff of legend in the jock world.

Codi circled around the desk. Reaching into a drawer, she pulled out an envelope, then cleared her throat. “Okay, ladies and gentlemen. Now for the moment of truth. Your assignment for the year.” If possible, the boys’ smiles got even wider.

Codi fixed of them in turn with a penetrating stare. “Remember, fellas, your girls are in charge tonight. They say no, you stop. They want more? You give them more. Otherwise, we will ruin you.” The smiles dropped slightly and the boys shifted around, nervously glancing at each other. It was clear that Codi wasn’t fucking around and meant every word.

She then began to read off names. A girl, then a guy. The mentor then led her protege over to her assigned player. “Amanda,” Codi said, “and Brent.”

Kelly let out a low whistle and clasped Amanda’s hand. Amanda squeezed back, grateful for her sister’s reassuring touch. But her misgivings were only growing stronger,

Brent was the star quarterback. In the universe of high school, his star shone the brightest. He was 6 foot 3, muscled, blonde hair, sparkling blue eyes. As All-American as apple pie. Girls would literally kill to be his girlfriend. And now he belonged to Amanda. Why wasn’t she excited about it?

“All right,” said Codi, “There are four bedrooms in the house, I suggest you find one and have yourselves a little fun.” Codi smiled, then turned to her protege. “We’ll stay here,” she said. Within seconds, she had the running back’s cock out and was stroking it.

Kelly, Amanda and Brent hustled upstairs to the master bedroom, then Kelly closed and locked the door. Amanda’s heart felt as if it was pounding through her chest.

Kelly smiled and stroked her hair, “Don’t worry sis, this will be great.” She then turned her back to Brent. “Unzip me, darling?”

Amanda felt a pang of jealousy rip through her at the “darling, ” but it was quickly subsumed by lust as she watched her sister’s dress slide to the floor, revealing her amazing body.

Kelly turned around and knelt in front of Brent, guiding Amanda down next to her. Unbuttoning his jeans, she slid them down to his thighs, revealing his cock — still soft, but Amanda thought it looked huge.

Kelly smiled warmly at Amanda as she wrapped a hand around Brent’s member. “Honey, don’t worry, just watch and learn. I’ll get him started, then you’ll take over.”

Mandy swallowed hard, a feeling of dread rising inside. This felt utterly, completely wrong. She didn’t want to touch Brent’s cock. She didn’t even want to see it.

Why do I feel this way? she desperately asked herself, nervously nibbling on a fingernail. Two weeks ago, I’d have done anything for a date with Brent Jarvis.

Deep down inside, she knew why. Everything had changed on that first day of school, that day when she went down on her own sister, tasted another girl for the first time.

Since then, Amanda had barely given a thought to other boys… and her feelings of love for Kelly had only grown stronger. She winced at the sight of her sister, smiling up at Brent as she fondled his prick.

I don’t want her touching him either, she thought. Him, or any other guy.

But something was wrong. Kelly was staring up at Brent, frowning. “What’s the matter, babe?” In the palm of her hand lay the football star’s limp cock.

“Fuck.” moaned Brent. “I mean… fuck!” He pulled away, then sat down heavily on the bed, his shoulders slumped in defeat. “I’m sorry… I can’t.”

Excuse me?” asked Kelly, staring in disbelief.

“I just… I can’t do this,” he mumbled, putting his head in his hands.

Kelly’s eyes flashed with indignation. “What’s the matter? Don’t you want us? C’mon, two sisters at the same time! It’s a fucking fantasy for the ages!”

Brent lifted his head. His eyes were red, like he was about to cry. “Never, ever tell anyone.”

Kelly scowled. “What? That you couldn’t get it up?”

“No,” he said, then took a deep breath. “I’m gay, you guys.”

Amanda was light-headed with relief. She wouldn’t have to fuck him after all! Then she saw the shame in Brent’s expression, and her heart went out to him.

“It’s okay, Brent,” she murmured, drifting over to sit next to the embarrassed jock. “We understand. Listen, there’s nothing wrong with you liking guys.” She paused, then added. “Actually… I’m gay, too.”

Now Kelly and Brent were both staring at her — and Amanda couldn’t help it, she began to laugh. Kelly smiled, then started giggling along with her sister. Soon, all three of them were overcome with mirth.

Finally, Kelly pulled herself together, “All right, your secret is safe with us. We’ll spread the rumor that you were a total stud. In fact, we’ll say that you drilled us both like a sailor on shore leave.”

With a wry grin, Brent pulled up his pants and fastened them, then gave each of the girls a hug. “Thanks so much, you guys.” He indicated a door that opened onto the patio, “Listen, if you’re okay with it, I’m gonna go meet my boyfriend.”

“Anyone we know?” Kelly asked teasingly.

Blushing, Brent shook his head. “Probably not. He’s a older guy, dances for the ballet company downtown.” He shrugged into his leather jacket. “Are you guys all right to stay here?”

“Sure, we’re fine,” Amanda nodded, casually placing a hand on her big sister’s shoulder.

Kelly smiled, “No problem, sweetie, go have fun.”

“Thanks,” said the burly teen. “Y’know, Mandy… you’re really nice. If I’ve gotta have a fake girlfriend to get through high school, I’m glad it’s you.” Blowing her a bashful kiss, he hustled over to the door and quietly slipped out.

As soon as he was gone, Kelly burst into laughter, “Holy shit, you have to be kidding me! Just your luck, you get a gay football player!”

Amanda smiled. The sight of her naked sister laughing, breasts bouncing with each breath, was getting her worked up. Kelly was seated on the edge of the bed, Amanda standing before her.

“So, baby sister,” Kelly said, “were you telling Brent the truth just then? You really aren’t into guys?”

Nibbling her lower lip, staring at the floor, Amanda sighed. “No… I guess I’m not.” Raising her head, she said, “It’s your fault, though. You turned me on to girls, y’know. Now it’s all I can think about… and you’re the girl I’m into most of all.” Kelly’s shaved pussy seemed to beckon to her.

Kelly saw her sister’s lustful gaze and spread her legs slightly. “Like what you see, then?”

Without a word, Amanda fell to her knees, nudged her way between Kelly’s thighs and licked lustily at the older girl’s juicy slit.

“Oh, fuck, Mandy,” Kelly moaned, falling backwards on the king size bed.

Amanda feasted on her sister, sliding her tongue up and down, probing the folds of Kelly’s cunt. She could sense Kelly getting wetter and wetter in response to her licking, and that in turn made her own pussy drip.

She broke away long enough to pull off her own dress. Meanwhile, Kelly scooted herself up to the head of the bed, grabbed her knees and pulled them to her chest to fully expose her pussy and anus. Her wet cunt had spread open slightly, revealing the pink flesh inside, and her tight little rosebud pulsed with excitement.

Amanda dove back in, running her tongue from Kelly’s clit to her asshole, spreading the wetness along every sensitive inch of her sister’s nether regions. Sliding a hand down Kelly’s thigh, she pushed a finger into the older girl’s tight pussy.

“Oh, yes, Mandy,” Kelly moaned, “Finger me!” She began to rock her hips in time with Amanda’s probing finger. “Oh, God that feels good. Put in another!”

“You got it.” Amanda slipped two, then three fingers into her sister.

“Mandy! Fuck! Oh wow, yeah, just like that. Now lick my ass, baby sister!” Kelly was out of control with lust. Her body was rocking and shaking wildly.

Amanda quickly obeyed, running her tongue through the crack of Kelly’s ass.

Kelly moaned loudly. Her sister’s fingers and tongue were driving her insane. “Fuuuck me!” she screamed.

Thrilled by how unimaginably wonderful the evening had turned out to be, Amanda plunged her fingers into Kelly’s wet pussy and her tongue into her tight, spasming asshole.

Kelly came with a loud whimper, her pussy clenching Amanda’s fingers as she rode out her orgasm. After she had enough, Kelly pushed her sister’s face away, gasping, “Enough, babe.”

Amanda withdrew her fingers from her sister and brought them up to her lips, which were already dripping with Kelly’s juices. She licked the index finger, savoring the taste of her elder sibling.

“Gimme some, sis.” Kelly grabbed Mandy by the wrist and took the remaining two fingers into her mouth. She sucked at them, swirling her tongue around and tasting herself.

It’s so hot, watching my sister lick her own pussy juices from my fingers. As she drank in the sexy sight, Amanda let her free hand wander down to her own wet cunt and began to play. She moaned as her eyes met and locked with those of her big sister.

Amanda put a finger into her juicy cunt, got it nice and slick, then held it up in front of Kelly’s face. Kelly seized that wrist too, and was soon sampling the taste of her little sister.

Taking a break from comparing pussy flavors, Kelly gazed deep into Mandy’s eyes. “Mandy, little sister… I love you.”

Amanda gasped. She’d been wondering if this was just fun for Kelly, or if it was something more.

Amanda breathlessly replied, “I love you too. I don’t want to be with anyone else.” They came together in a pure and loving kiss. It was erotic, it was taboo, it was love all wrapped up into one single shining moment.

When they broke apart, Kelly reached down and, grasping Amanda by the hips, guided her sister up the bed until the younger teen’s dripping wetness was directly over her face. Kelly extended her tongue, letting the tip just barely run along Amanda’s slit. Ever so slowly, Kelly drew Amanda down to her face, a little bit closer with each pass of her tongue.

Mandy was clutching the headboard, silently begging her big sister, Stop teasing me… eat my pussy, damn it! Soon, though, she was finally riding Kelly’s eager face, the girl’s tongue buried deep in her snatch.

“Oh, god Kelly, yes,” Amanda moaned. She reached down with one hand to tease her pencil eraser nipples. Her body was sweating and heaving as she whimpered, desperate to explode in her sister’s beautiful face.

Just then, Kelly reached up and spread Amanda’s buttocks, gently placed the tip of her finger against her sister’s asshole and pushed. At this provocation, Mandy exploded.

“Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck!” she cried, shuddering violently as an orgasm broke over her. Her hips churned as she ground her dripping cunt into Kelly’s face. A second wave of bliss poured through her as Kelly slid that probing finger into her ass, just up to the first knuckle.

“Oh, God, oh God,” Amanda moaned, “I love you, I love you, I loooooove youuuuu!” The teen’s voice rose to a scream as her pleasure reached its peak.

Utterly spent, Amanda collapsed to one side, somehow managing to dismount her sister’s face in the process. Kelly panted for air, finally catching her breath after nearly being smothered by Mandy’s cunt. Her lips and chin were glistening with wetness.

Blindly reaching for her sister, Amanda began to kiss and lick Kelly’s face all over, enjoying the taste of her own juices. Their mouths drifted together and they shared a languid kiss, tongues blissfully trading flavors.

As they came down from their lust they lay cuddled together. Amanda idly fondled her sister’s tits, while Kelly tenderly stroked Amanda’s still tingling pussy.

“I mean it, Amanda.” said Kelly using her most serious voice, “I truly love you.”

“I do too, Kelly. I really, really do. You are my love and my lover.”

They kissed.

The sisters lay naked in Codi’s parents’ bed for a long while, in love and in heaven.

Somehow, they never noticed the little red light coming from the wardrobe across the room…

To appear at some point in time: Chapter 5!